Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

"W ait," Matthew stopped me as I stalked toward the ballroom. "We can't go in there like this."

I glanced at Matthew, blood caked to the side of his mouth, hair disheveled. My right hand throbbed, still splattered with blood. He was right, of course.

"This way," he urged, steering us around the side of the house.

"What's all this, then?" Melbourne asked, appearing from out of the darkness like an apparition. His eyes snapped to my hand. "Are you injured?"

"We were walking and thought we heard someone calling for help," Cecelia joined him at his elbow, shadows clinging to her face so that it was hard to read her expression.

"Someone tried to …" Matthew shuddered, his hand briefly finding my arm before letting go. "We just need to go somewhere private. To clean up."

Melbourne hesitated, then nodded past some tall hedges, where light spilled from a window. "The kitchens are just up ahead."

Matthew shook his head. "They'll be full of people right now."

Cecelia peered back at the open door to the ballroom, before turning to me. "Why don't you take him to your room? I'll have a servant send some fresh water and clean towels to you, like you spilled something and need to freshen up."

Matthew looked at Melbourne. "Would you mind making my excuses to my family? I don't want anyone worrying about me. We won't be long."

"Of course," Melbourne nodded and gestured for Cecelia to escort him inside. Cecelia sent a worried glance at me before she walked with him back to the party.

"There's a servants' entrance nearby," Matthew told me.

I followed him as he led us indoors, and to my surprise, directly to my room, like he'd known where it was on instinct. Once inside, I closed the door behind us and ran a hand through my hair, watching Matthew as he settled onto the edge of my bed. "Why were those men after you?"

Matthew blinked, as if the question hadn't occurred to him. "I—I don't know."

I narrowed my eyes. "Do people often try to drag you into the recesses of gardens?"

"No. It's … I don't know what that was about. I swear." He hesitated.

"But you have your suspicions."

Matthew sighed and gestured to the bed beside him. "Let me have a look at that hand."

I bristled at the order, but obeyed him. I was used to injuries healing in the blink of an eye. The sustained throbbing pain I was feeling from my knuckles was unpleasant, but they were likely only bruised. It was truly amazing how fragile humans were, and yet they wanted so desperately to live.

I recalled a man who'd bled out prior to my expulsion from my castle. He'd wanted to live, had wanted me to hear him out. I'd denied him that. I'd needed blood to survive after all, so I had to kill, but it need not have been so casually cruel.

I shook my head. No. There was no need to feel guilty for giving in to my own impulses. It was the natural order of things. Cats played with their food all the time. Nature was brutal.

"Did you see the marks on their robes?" Matthew asked as he grabbed my hand and turned it over to examine my knuckles. He ran his slim fingers over them gently, and I winced. "Sorry."

I retrieved my hand and cradled it against me to shield it from further probing. "A mark?" I was only half-listening, distracted as I recalled that the man's blood had been so detestable. I had lived for the taste of blood running down my throat, had savored each tantalizing drop. Why did it do nothing for me now? Was it a fair trade for human food? No. Human food was delightful in its own way, but it wasn't the same. It didn't make my body hum with energy and ecstasy.

"Yes, like a moth," Matthew said.

I stilled. "What did you say?"

He frowned. "I said that the mark was like a moth."

"A red moth? With its wings extended?"

Matthew's eyes narrowed. "Yes. Why? You've seen it before?"

I swallowed, mouth suddenly dry as my memories reminded me who I was at the core of my being.

I would never tire of the sound of bones breaking. I enjoyed the gentle crack of finger bones, like branches snapping underfoot, quick and sharp. But I loved the decimation of large bones, struck succinctly with a tremendous amount of force, far more. The splintering sound, much like chestnuts cracking in a fireplace, sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine. The accompanying cacophony of groans and shrieks was like a symphony. Pain really was an art form.

The femur was my preferred target. Pulverize such a bone, and the victims were left limping away, or better yet, crawling on their bellies, white-knuckled fingers dragging them along with painstaking slowness across the stone castle floor. Although it was a waste to shatter the leg bone, in all honesty. I savored sucking blood from the marrow, and it was never as satisfying with smaller bones. Whichever way I chose to indulge myself, it never grew dull. The possibilities were significant, after all, what with so many bones in a fragile human body. Two hundred and six bones total, although a few had more. I've counted. And there were so very many ways to destroy each and every one of them.

"Stay away from me, monster."

I quirked an eyebrow at the boy standing in the cold stone room, bare but for a straw-covered mattress and a chamber pot. The bars over the windows were hardly necessary, as the drop from this high up in the castle would surely kill a man, even if he were to land in the water.

"Do I look like a monster?" I demanded, stepping up to the boy, who impressively held his ground. He was a handsome lad, blond, early twenties, with a week's worth of stubble across his cheeks. He was in fine shape, and I had little doubt that the blood pumping through his veins was divine.

The boy hesitated. "I know of your kind. Moroi. Vampire. You may appear human, but there's a demon behind that mask. You will not have my soul."

"Then it's a good thing it's not your soul I'm after." I reached out and ran a hand down the boy's bare shoulder, and he flinched, ripping his arm from me, but I grabbed his wrist with the speed of a rattlesnake, staying his hand. "Look into my eyes," I ordered him.

The boy immediately turned his eyes from me, as they always did. But he was human, and his curiosity got the best of him. He tried to only glimpse me from the corner of his eyes, but that was all I needed. My stare didn't waver as I forced my power into my gaze, like a red-hot coal, fiery and radiating with heat.

The fight seemed to go out of him, as if his strings had been cut. I felt no more resistance in his arm and dropped it, my lips curving into a smile.

"That's better," I told him as he faced me straight-on. I pushed a lock of hair back from his face and considered his tender lips, eyes straying down to his neck, where his artery pulsed, as if in anticipation.

"You want my mouth on your skin," I said.

"I want your mouth on my skin," he repeated, eyes far away, a vague smile playing across his lips. "Please, sir."

I leaned closer to him, so that my cheek grazed his. My breath tickled his ear. "You would be mine."

The boy shuddered. "I would be yours," he agreed.

I lingered for a moment in that position, anticipating his warm blood in my mouth. He certainly was handsome. Perhaps I could draw this game out, maybe even turn him. I was in want of companionship, and he certainly had fire. Most humans were so meek and submissive. Boring. I could test this boy's limits, see how far I could push him before he begged me to make him mine. That would be a delicious victory.

"Sir, your bath is ready."

I blinked, then let out a sigh as I retreated from the boy's neck, glancing at the timid woman standing in the doorway. She was new. Tabitha or Martha or something equally insipid. Most humans weren't known for their creativity. Whatever her name, this girl was hardly an adequate servant. Even dangling promises of eternal youth before her dull eyes wasn't enough to entice her to show some spirit. But then again, no one would ever hold a candle to Helena. Efficient, hard-working Helena, whose loss I would always lament. After many trials over the years with numerous new girls, I was now stuck with this creature.

"Very well," I said regretfully, pressing the boy's shoulder as he regained his senses. "We'll continue this later."

The boy flinched away, surprised that he'd let me touch him.

I chuckled as I followed Teresa, or maybe it was Tara, up the staircase to my bedchamber.

Inside, candelabras threw eerie firelight dancing across the sparse stone chamber. A coffin lay in the corner, while a wardrobe and desk stood silently together where normally a window would have looked out over the river. Of course, I'd had that window bricked over long ago to avoid any chance of meeting the sun's rays.

In the center of the room, a claw-footed tub had been stationed, and as the girl, Nadia, I finally recalled, waited silently, I disrobed and slipped into the water, easing back against the cold porcelain with a sigh. I glanced at a figure beside my bath, a man tied tightly with rope, a dirty cloth stuffed into his mouth. A goblet on a table awaited his blood. The trick was to keep him alive long enough for several refills before the water grew cold.

"Is the water to your liking, sir?" my servant asked.

"It is acceptable," I said, waving her away. "Leave me to entertain my guest."

Nadia bobbed a curtsy and scurried from the room.

I leaned my head back as the door closed with a click, my eyes locking on the man. He was in his late thirties, hairy, and was beginning to sweat profusely. Rather rude. Already, my mind was returning to the boy in the other room, fit and full of fight.

Muffled sounds began to escape the man's mouth. "What's that? I can't hear you." I laughed and rolled my head back. "You have something in your mouth." I eyed him as he continued to try to plead with me, growing more annoyed with every passing moment. Couldn't I enjoy my bath in peace? "Let me guess: I should spare you. You have children. Blah blah blah. I don't know why you mewling mortals throw that out as a selling point. The fact that you're producing screaming brats makes me want to end every one of your bloodlines." I sighed. "But then, who would be left to worship me as the most feared vampire in the world?" I slipped into the water and blew bubbles for a minute. There was a count in Transylvania who declared himself lord of vampires, although I hadn't been impressed when I'd met him in passing. But that could be me one day. I was gaining a reputation around this countryside, and one day, I could be a legend that mothers warned their children about in whispers as they prayed beside their beds. "Never venture outdoors alone at night, or fear facing the most dashingly handsome man you have ever set eyes upon." Okay, maybe not that last part, but I would earn their fear. I would earn their respect.

I was so deep in thought that I hardly registered the sound of feet approaching before the door to my room burst open. "Lucian!"

I stiffened, glaring to find my vampire protégée standing in the doorway. I was about to rebuke her when I noted the terrified look in her eyes. "Raven?" I sat up and watched as she shoved her black hair back from her shoulder. Her beauty was striking. It was one of several reasons I'd chosen her for her role, to learn from me, to share in my spoils and carry out my wishes. Not that I cared about her appearance. She was far too … female for me. But I had to admit that her womanly charms did come in handy on occasion. "What is it?"

Raven opened her mouth to speak, but I could hear it. My ears were acute enough to pick up the rumble of voices, the crunch of gravel beneath dozens of feet, horses parading up the bridge to the castle carrying men who clinked with metal armor.

Hunters.

I hissed as I leapt to my feet, flicking my hand through the air to slice the man's throat beside the bathtub with my sharp fingernails. The man's eyes bulged as he slumped forward, blood gushing from his jugular in uneven spurts. I barely noticed the final throes of the man's life as I stepped from the tub and pulled on a robe, eyes never leaving Raven's. I did, however, run my bloody fingertips over my tongue, savoring the rush of warmth it provided.

Raven's lips trembled slightly, and although I was more in control of my body than she was at a mere half century in age, I was frightened as well. I'd heard of raids on vampire keeps across the land, but they were always minor vampires. I had been the chosen protégée of the revered Konstantin, who'd schooled me in greatness. How dare these men feel so emboldened as to attack me in my own home.

Every once in a while, an amateur hunter would attempt to take my life. It was quaint, really, the idea that they could best me on my own territory armed only with a mallet and a wooden stake. But these mobs of men were another beast. Organized, efficient. They knew what they were doing and were sure to be armed with the necessary tools to smoke us out if necessary. Any traps I'd set for such an occasion wouldn't be able to account for their sheer numbers. The only course of action available to me, if I planned to survive this night, was to flee, leaving my castle behind with all the treasures that I'd accumulated over the centuries.

But there would always be more.

"What do we do?" Raven breathed, scrambling to keep up as I stalked from the room. "They've already surrounded the castle. They seemed to materialize from the very fog itself."

I snorted. "Only we can transform in such a way, my dear." I paused and sent her a sympathetic look. "It really is a shame that you never learned that discipline. It takes more time for some of us. You were getting so close, too. It's going to be much more difficult for you to make your escape."

Raven swallowed hard and clutched my arm. "Lucian. Please."

I glared and she dropped my arm, bowing her head subserviently. "Forgive me."

I sighed. "Oh, stop looking at me with those wide eyes. You know how I hate those pathetic shows for sympathy. It's so human." I wrinkled my nose, then shrugged. "But if you hurry to the basement, you could take the hidden tunnels into the mountains and be gone before they've discovered you. Although I would hurry if I were you."

Raven pursed her lips, then glanced at me with a hopeful expression. "The key?"

"In my study, last drawer on the left."

She turned and fled before the last word was out of my mouth.

I smiled to myself, then turned to walk up the closest turret stairs. I hoped she eluded the mob. Coming across any human with qualities adequate for an immortal life was very rare. I hated to think that I would have to scour the countryside for another like Raven.

I'd even determined loyal Helena unworthy in the end, despite her redeeming virtues. She simply wasn't suited for immortal life, and I would spare her the indignity of discovering that unfortunate fact on her own. And some claimed I didn't know the meaning of mercy.

The moon beckoned to me even before I stepped out into the night's embrace, stars dancing radiantly across the sky overhead, as if performing a cosmic ritual for me.

I punched the wall, attempting to rein in the anger I felt racing through my veins at the indignation of it all. I was being run from my home by an army of worthless hogs who weren't fit to wallow in their own shit. I hit the wall again, and again, and again, welcoming the pain that focused my rage. After a minute, I felt better. I stared down at my bloodied knuckles as the skin knit itself back together, as if the tantrum had never happened at all.

I dropped my robe and lifted my head to the moon as my body shifted. I willed my bones to pop and shorten, bend and reform. My skin shrank and stretched, hair sprouting over my face while my nose dwindled to make way for flared nostrils. My maker had taught me the art of shape-changing for half a century before I'd mastered the three sacred forms: The wolf, the mist, and the bat. Tonight, it was the latter that would carry me away from this castle I'd called home for the past two centuries.

Mist was a time-consuming shift, hard to control during high winds, and dangerous on a night such as this when I would need my wits about me. It was easy to become lost as one's mind faded. The wolf would be of no use with my enemy on the ground. No, it was the bat that I turned to in this hour of need.

The transformation complete, I flapped my wings and lifted into the air, allowing a gust of wind to carry me aloft. I circled the castle, vying for a good look at the intruders who fancied themselves my executioners. If I could recognize but one, I might be able to put an end to their reign of terror so that no such raids occurred again. But as I drew nearer to the mob, the fires from their torches shone on masked features made to look like bears and wolves and lions, as if they were the predators here, and not the sheep who would be slaughtered. I did, however, discern a symbol etched across their armor like a badge, as if proclaiming themselves an army: a red moth.

I watched silently as the humans gracelessly plodded over the bridge, realizing with rising anger that the doors had been thrown open to welcome them. Betrayed by one of my own, it would seem. And in the doorway, who did I spy, but that nitwit Nadia. I would hunt the ungrateful imposter down. I would relish breaking every single bone in her body before I tore out her kidney and forced her to eat it while she yet lived.

"There!" a cry sounded at the same time that I felt a wooden bolt slip through the thin membrane of skin making up my left wing.

I cried out, the sound emitting as a squeak of surprise, and then the wind forsook me. I plunged past the bridge and into the icy waters that raged along the base of the castle.

I gasped at the shock of cold—the accompanying nausea from the running water enough to shake my concentration on my bat form. My bones shifted and my body stretched relentlessly as I struggled to stay afloat. The raging water continued to sap my strength as it swept me far from my beloved castle and deeper into the mountains. I could see the sky lightening to the east. If I was to survive this night, I would need to find shelter, and soon.

My mind roared. The people responsible for my current predicament had been in my grasp. I should have been paying more attention. If I'd disregarded this strange boy's plight, I could have dragged the men off and forced their secrets from them. Vrykolakas would have been beyond proud of my prompt showing, and I would have only the trivial task of Ambrose's hand ahead of me. But, no. I'd decided to be noble.

It was laughable that just a moment ago I had been thinking of myself more as a human than a vampire. I'd been human for little over a day, but I wasn't one of them. Being surrounded by them, having their blood run through my veins … it was making me soft. It was making me like them. I would have to purge such weakness.

I frowned. But why had they targeted a young lord? Matthew certainly wasn't a vampire. They had to have multiple agendas then. I just didn't understand how Matthew fit into them.

"Why were they after you?" I questioned him again.

Matthew's mouth opened and closed for a moment before he sighed. He was saved from answering by a sharp rap on the door, followed by Stuart entering the room, balancing a water basin in his arms. He stilled when he noticed Matthew in the room with me, eyes going wide momentarily before he moved to set up the basin, as well as the towels he'd thrown over his shoulder.

"That will be all, Stuart," I told him.

Stuart hesitated before addressing Matthew. "My lord, your father has been … anxious as to your whereabouts."

Matthew straightened. "Melbourne will set his mind to rest. And I'll be along shortly. Thank you, Stuart."

Stuart licked his lips, eyes dancing between me and Matthew for a moment. "Is there anything … the matter?"

"Nothing you need concern yourself with," I snapped.

Stuart lowered his eyes and bowed before leaving the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

"Don't worry," Matthew said. "Stuart is trustworthy. He will keep this quiet."

I raised an eyebrow. "And what of Melbourne and Cecelia? This has gotten out of hand. I wish you'd let me linger in the garden. I would have liked to question that man."

"That would have been the smart thing to do," Matthew agreed with a sigh. "He might have had information about Emmett."

"Emmett?" I frowned, confused.

Matthew turned to me, meeting my eyes as if bracing to deliver bad news. "I must apologize for the subterfuge, Lucian. I'm not who I led you to believe."

My eyes narrowed as I waited for him to continue.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "My name isn't Matthew. It's Maxwell. Maxwell Harclay. I'm the duke's youngest son."

I stared him for a moment, incredulous, then laughed. "Of course you are. I should have seen it. You have your mother's eyes, and her hair."

Maxwell smiled sheepishly. "I truly am sorry. I would have said something sooner, but I never have the opportunity to speak to someone so candidly." He paused. "You're not upset then?"

I shrugged. "It's rather amusing." And I couldn't quite fault him when I myself wasn't who I said I was. "Besides, you owe me now."

"Oh?"

"I saved your life."

Maxwell pursed his lips. "I suppose that's true. You have my eternal gratitude."

I snorted. "Cute. I suppose that will do for now."

I walked over to the water basin and wet a towel, running it over my knuckles to clean them of the stranger's blood. If I'd known I was grappling with the men behind my exodus, I wouldn't have shown them any mercy whatsoever. It only took one of them to point me toward the rest of their accomplices. The other, I would have unleashed my wrath upon. I would have torn the man's throat out with these dull human teeth until I heard the sound of him gurgling, drowning in his own lifeblood.

I sighed as I brought a clean cloth over to Maxwell. "Hold still," I ordered him, before I wiped the blood from the side of his mouth. "Does it hurt?"

Maxwell shook his head. "I bit the inside of my cheek. It's nothing."

I sat back, watching him momentarily before I crossed my arms. "Okay, out with it. Why did you approach me pretending to be some distant cousin?"

Maxwell avoided my eyes. "I needed to know I could trust you. From what Zachariah told me, I thought I could. He has good instincts about these things. And then you … saved me before you knew who I really was. You didn't have to do that."

"But don't you think me a brute? I enjoyed that fight, I'll have you know."

He swallowed hard. "I think you're a good man, Lucian Cross. That's what I think."

Shows what you know, I thought as I regarded this young man anew. The son of the duke. No wonder he'd been trying to ferret out my feelings for Ambrose. I hoped he'd managed to hear how most people in that room viewed his brother. "Wait. Who was standing with your family, greeting the guests?"

"An actual cousin who was only too happy to go along with the ruse. My family indulged me, but I had to fool everyone else. I have duties to fulfill, you know."

I nodded slowly. "That's why your mask was so cumbersome then. Okay. But why did you need to know if you could trust me? You mentioned Emmett? He's the middle brother in your family, is he not? The missing brother?"

Maxwell let out a breath as he stood to pace. "Yes. He's been gone for a fortnight. Ambrose wanted to call off the ball, but mother wouldn't hear of it, what with father being so poorly. And anyway, she thinks that he's gone off with a boy again."

"Again?"

"Yes, he's done it before, but not for more than a few days. The fact that it's been so long … it worries me. No one has seen him. I'm afraid something untoward has happened to him." Maxwell stopped in front of me, gazing at me earnestly. "I wasn't sure before, but Zachariah thought you might be able to help us find him. Being a stranger here, you could ask questions. It would seem innocent for someone from out of town to seek information. Plus, the most prestigious families are all here. One of them must know something. Those men have to be in someone's employ, after all. And now I can tell you've a keen mind. The way you handled those men just now makes me think you could truly be an asset."

I held up a hand. "Is it possible that Emmett has, in fact, run off with a boy?"

Maxwell hesitated. "No. He wouldn't leave me to worry like this. We're close. He's left me notes in the past. I can't see him leaving without notice."

"And these men who ambushed you today? You think they have something to do with his disappearance?"

"It can't be a coincidence, right?"

I cursed, wishing I'd had this information sooner. There was no chance those men were still lingering nearby after our scuffle.

"I'm so worried," Maxwell said, grabbing my hand. "Please say you'll help, Lucian."

My mind whirled with what he'd told me. Of course, I had to get to the bottom of just who those men were anyway, to meet Vrykolakas's conditions. If they were somehow mixed up in this whole affair with Emmett, it would hardly be any extra effort. It would also, perhaps, give me access to some areas people wouldn't want me looking. Plus, it might put me in good graces with the family and help me earn Ambrose's esteem.

As if reading my mind, Maxwell's eyes brightened. "If you do, I'll make sure that Ambrose keeps you in the competition."

I tilted my head. "Oh?"

"Yes, as the season goes on, fewer guests will be invited to stay in the house. In the end, there will be only one. If I put in a good word for you, Ambrose will keep you in the running, and you'll have a better chance at securing his hand."

I shook my head, smiling. "Tell me one thing, Maxwell: Is Ambrose worth the trouble? Will he make a good duke?"

Maxwell lifted his chin. "He'll make a much better duke than the current one."

I watched him for a moment, but he didn't waver in his assertion. "Then I accept. I'll help you find your brother. But I make no guarantees."

"Nor do I."

"Fair enough." I reached out a hand and he shook it. I grimaced when I realized I'd offered him my injured hand. "Just don't hold anything back, even if it may paint Emmett in a poor light."

"I won't."

I nodded, leaning back. "Now, I suppose we'd best get back to the ball before anyone worries that the duke's youngest is missing as well. We'll start looking for clues in earnest tomorrow." I paused. "By the way, where did you arrive from? I heard you were out of town."

"I thought Emmett may have gone up to Foxglove Abbey. We usually spend several weeks there over the summer, and it's rather secluded."

"No luck?"

"None. A horse was missing from the stables, so that was my first thought. But plenty of livestock have gone missing lately, so it's likely some thief."

I clapped him on the back. "Well, don't fret. We'll get to the bottom of this."

"I certainly hope so."

When we returned to the ballroom, dancing had commenced. Maxwell joined his mother, and I watched with annoyance as Isabel waltzed across the room with Ambrose, looking every bit the fairy-tale princess. I scrutinized her moves, hoping she would stumble, but her dancing was flawless. The judges looked on approvingly, murmuring to one another. I was surprised they didn't clap, they were so smitten.

Curiously, I noticed that many of the men in the room, the elderly duke included, were missing. It was another thirty minutes before I noted their return. I wondered where they'd been off to, but I supposed business transactions often went down behind the scenes at events such as this. Perhaps I would be invited to such proceedings in the future.

Halfway through the evening, I'd danced with a dozen partners of little interest. I plopped into a seat at Helena's table to take a breather. I hadn't handed my dance number to the judges yet, for I was scrutinizing potential dance partners. I needed to strategize, choose someone who would make me look good. Luckily, I appeared to be naturally better than most people in this room without the help.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asked.

I pushed damp hair from my eyes. "I'm only meeting the demands of the challenge set before me."

Helena snorted. "So dedicated to the cause."

"That's me. Dedicated." I snatched her champagne flute and took a generous sip before returning it to her. I was rather thirsty, but it wasn't the blinding need for blood that I was accustomed to. Exerting myself was much more taxing as a human. As a vampire, I was indefatigable. Now, my heart was racing so loudly that I felt it in my ears, my lungs demanding greedy breaths of air to make up for the exercise.

I watched Isabel at the edge of the dance floor, speaking to Violetta, who turned her dance number in her hands nervously. As Violetta stammered something, Isabel snatched the glasses off the bridge of her nose and rethreaded the ribbon for her before carefully replacing them. She leaned over to squint at her friend's face before offering her a glowing smile. It was perhaps the first genuine smile I'd seen on the girl's face all evening. After a moment, she marched Violetta over to the judges' table, a gentle, but firm hand on her arm. I frowned at the display. Perhaps I'd misread their relationship. Maybe I wasn't as good at reading people as I'd imagined. Despite the display, however, I was still convinced that Isabel was an odious creature.

I felt a figure appear at my elbow and swallowed a sigh. It was flattering to be so admired and in constant demand, but I would have to sit a dance or two out to regain my strength. I looked up to beg a reprieve, stilling when I realized who stood before me.

"Pardon the intrusion. We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Ambrose Harclay." He had a sheepish grin on his face as he bowed his head.

I offered him my most sultry smile. "I'm aware. Lucian Cross, at your service."

He held out a hand to me. "Would you care for a dance?"

"It would be my honor."

Ambrose's hand was warm and sure as he led me out onto the floor. He paused at the judges' table with me briefly and I reluctantly handed my dance number over to them as Ambrose leaned over and spoke with one of them.

I worried that my palms were sweaty and itched to wipe them across my pants, but resisted. I would have to hope that Ambrose was gracious enough to ignore if I was perspiring. Yet he didn't look out of breath in the slightest as he swept me into the fray of dancers. How could he keep up with such a tireless procession of dances without fatiguing? As much attention as I had garnered tonight, Ambrose had seen more interest by far.

I was used to leading my partners in dances, but Ambrose made it clear that he would have that honor. I allowed him to take control and was pleasantly surprised by how confident he was. He never faltered once and made good eye contact throughout the number. He was making it very easy for me to stay in the competition by singling me out.

I noticed the same with Violetta as she swept by in Isabel's arms, an easy grin in place. She looked less the awkward shadow now, transformed by Isabel's attentions. Their bodies moved together harmoniously, instinctively, as if intimately familiar.

It was a strange feeling being in a man's arms in such a … submissive way. I felt like Ambrose had all of the power here, and indeed, he did. It was only when we began our second dance that my hand found his shoulder, and I sucked in a breath at the powerful muscle I found hidden beneath his suit.

I felt my knees grow a little weak under his guidance, heat creeping up my neck. Was … I couldn't be blushing, could I?

"I suppose I have your brother to thank for this dance," I said, desperate for a distraction.

Ambrose smirked, his face so close to mine that I could see a bead of sweat forming at his temple. So, he wasn't completely immune to the rigorous demands of the night, after all. "He may have forced my hand. Not that it took much convincing. When a stranger arrives in town, it tends to turn heads. I was hoping to test your mettle."

"And?"

"And I'm yet undecided, but you are a good dance partner. Certainly not as accomplished as me, but you have potential. I'm a natural, so I can't fault you."

I blinked. A little arrogant, wasn't he? "I'm flattered."

"As you should be," he agreed.

I couldn't help but lift an eyebrow, but quickly smoothed my face into a mask of serenity. So, the heir to the dukedom thought extremely highly of himself. What had I expected him to be like? I was used to thinking little of humans, so I shouldn't have been surprised, yet after meeting Maxwell, it was disappointing nonetheless.

Ambrose drew in closer as the dance commanded, and our faces were only inches apart for a moment. His eyes flicked down to my lips, and I knew that I'd at least scored a modicum of interest. That was a good first step to securing my place here.

"Do you think you can truly help find Emmett?" Ambrose asked as he escorted me from the floor several minutes later. His hand lingered on the small of my back. It felt possessive, and I had to command every ounce of composure not to slap it away.

I nodded. "I know how to get what I want, and I'm sure I can convince some people in Hale's Corner to talk. Plus, I have some experience in tracking." I wasn't going to tell him that it had been while tracking victims, but the same principle applied. "Are you terribly worried as well?"

Ambrose hesitated. "Truthfully, I wish mother would consider calling the constabulary. But she's afraid of causing a scandal. I'm not sure you'll be able to do much, but it's better than nothing, I suppose."

I'm glad that I'm better than nothing, I thought darkly as I kept a smile pasted across my face. "Perhaps I'll surprise you."

"Perhaps. I've secured your place in the competition for another round, Lucian. That should give you ample time to impress me. In the meantime, it'll be nice to have another handsome face around here." He reached out for my hand and bent low to offer it a kiss, holding my gaze all the while. Luckily, he'd sought my uninjured hand. His lips barely grazed my skin, cold and wet. I had to suppress a shudder. "It was quite enlightening."

I watched him go. For all of his self-importance, Ambrose genuinely seemed interested in me. His eyes searching me had screamed as much, and I'd had plenty of time to read people over the years, especially when it came to human emotions such as lust. I could work with that. I didn't have to like the heir to seduce him.

It was a good thing I was a good actor.