Goodbye Love (Kendawyn Paranormal Regency) Page 2

  He stifled a yawn, wholly unimpressed with the display of women. Draped in the latest, most expensive fabrics and dripping in obnoxious oversized jewels, the women of the aristocracy sought to outdo each other in every way. He sighed again. Nothing appealing at all to be found here.

  Then he turned and saw her. She stood in the shadows on the very edge of the dance floor. Her auburn hair cascaded down her back like a fiery waterfall. Absent a mask, he was able to drink in her exquisitely delicate features and porcelain skin.

  It was her. The woman who had haunted his dreams for years. The one he had been searching for. Could it be?

  He watched her intently.

  Her dark eyes glittered with some strong emotion that he could not quite discern from this distance. An unseen forced pulled him from his corner and across the dance floor to her position in the shadows. She was not wearing a gown, as many of the other women were; instead she was dressed in a costume from a different, more modern era. In his dreams she always wore a gown. Now she wore long pants which left little to his imagination. But it was still her. Definitely her. His hungry eyes traveled over her curvy hips and thin waist, but as he approached, his eyes traveled to her face and he noticed that something held her attention. Her brow was furrowed and she looked very concerned as she stared intently at something further in the shadows.

  He followed her line of sight with his eyes and saw a couple in costume. The woman was leaning into her partner who was lounged against the wall. It was Anna, feeding on the obviously willing man. The nameless stranger seemed to be enjoying being made into a meal. He chuckled to himself. His sister wasted no time.

  Philip turned his eyes back to the woman who had been watching the scene with his sister. For a moment, their eyes met and he saw horror in them. Just for the briefest flash. Then her green eyes turned hard as emeralds. She turned and fled from the ballroom into the hallway.

  Curious what caused her to look so horrified and refusing to let her go now that he had finally found her, he made a split-second decision to follow her into the black depths of the hallway.

  Grace lifted her head, finally regaining control of her emotions, and wiped her tears. She looked around for some trace of the forest she’d just been in only moments before. But there was not a single tree. She wasn’t even outside. Stringed instruments played and she watched as elegantly dressed men and women waltzed around the dance floor. She slowly stood up and turned in a circle looking around, shocked by her current surroundings.

  She rubbed her eyes and then looked again. Still in the middle of some sort of ball. A masquerade ball? People were in costumes all around the room. Women in silk ball gowns that looked like they had climbed right out of a Jane Austen book and distinguished-looking men in tuxedos wearing masks swayed and flitted about the enormous room. The floor looked like polished marble and massive columns rose up from the floor. Where was she? What in the world was going on?

  This had to be a dream. Right?

  In a dream, she could be transported from location to location in a moment. That had to be it. She stared in utter fascination at the scene unfolding in front of her. Then a glorious thought occurred to her. If this was a dream, then her sister was fine. She shook her head back and forth trying to clear the cobwebs and remember. She’d been driving, sampling the Chinese food. She was going to have dinner with Gillian.

  Then a cold dread shivered down her spine as she recalled the wreckage at her home.

  Was it a dream? A handsome man crossed the dance floor catching her attention. His mask looked like it was lined with sapphires and diamonds. Something in the way he held himself as he walked toward her gave her a thrill that she had to forcibly shake off.

  This has to be a dream. If this wasn’t a dream, then Gillian was missing.

  Her thought was interrupted by an attractive couple deep in the shadows. They were beautiful. She watched them share a passionate kiss and felt a little ashamed for staring. But they were lovely.

  The woman looked to be nibbling on the man’s neck, and then she saw the woman’s teeth actually dig into his neck, piercing the skin. She heard him gasp and the man tipped his back in what looked like exhilaration. What in the world?

  Had she been transported from the park to some kind of freaky sex club? She looked up and noticed the man with the sapphire mask crossing the floor and looking in her direction. He was gorgeous.

  She needed to get out of here. Wherever she was, however she got here, she wasn’t going to find her sister here. She dug into her jacket pocket to get her cell phone. Her pocket was empty. Strange. She was certain that she’d put it in her pocket before she’d run into the forest.

  Unless she woke and confirmed that this all had been some sort of crazy dream, she’d have to act on the uncomfortable truth that Gillian had been taken by Jake and was in real danger. She had to find her. With a last glance at the handsome man striding in her direction, and the realization that he was looking at her like she was his next meal, she took off into the darkness of the hallway.

  As soon as she was alone in the hallway, she started to run. The sconces on the wall threw some light onto the floor and she kept her eyes on her feet as she ran forward. She needed to find a door, an exit, and then get to a phone, call the police, and track down the animal that took her sister.

  Before she made it to the end of the hallway, she felt hands grab her arms and pull her to a stop.

  “Wait. What on earth are you running from?”

  “Let go of me!” She demanded. The hands released her immediately. She quickly spun around and saw she was facing the beautiful sapphire masked man. “I’m not running from anything. My sister—she’s in trouble and I need to help her. I need to find a telephone and call the police.”

  “Oh, a telephone. Interesting.” His face crinkled in what looked like confusion. Or was it irritation?

  “Never mind. I just need to go.” She turned and continued down the hallway in the original direction she’d been heading—and smacked into a wall.

  Dead end.

  “Ugh.” Grace grumbled in frustration. She turned back around and found herself face to face with him again.

  Exasperated, and worried about her sister, she snapped at him. “Do you mind? I’d like to leave this place. I need to find my sister.”

  “Allow me to assist you, Miss…?”

  “Carson. Grace Carson,” she quipped.

  “Well, then, Miss Grace Carson,” he spoke as he offered his arm quite formally. “Tell me about your sister. I should be honored to help you retrieve her.”

  The gnawing in her stomach worsened as she thought about what might be happening to her sister in this moment—she could be lying in a ditch or he could be slapping her around—and sighed audibly. She would be stupid to refuse anyone offering to help her find Gillian. The clock was ticking.

  “Her name is Gillian. She was staying with me—”

  “Where do you live? I am certain I have not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance before this evening.”

  “On Jasmine Lane, near the library,” she answered dismissively, then continued relating the events of the evening. “She was staying with me because her husband was abusive and then he broke in—I’m sure it was him—and there was a struggle. I came home with the Chinese food and the house was torn apart. The lamps, the furniture. Everything. It was like he came in and purposely tried to destroy everything. But that doesn’t even matter. What matters is that he took her. She is gone. I searched in my backyard and then I drove around the block. I thought maybe he took her into the park behind my house—or maybe she ran there to get away from him—so I went in after her, but it got dark and then I knew she was really gone and then, and then…”

  Grace inhaled quickly. She was definitely panicking. And rambling like a lunatic.

  She glanced sideways at him. His face was blank, but in his eyes she could see shock…or was it something else?

  They continued to move down the hallway and
she followed his lead. She had to think. This wasn’t the time for hysterics. She needed to find Gillian. Now.

  “Have you caught your breath?” he asked. “I can help you. I know just what we need to do to find your sister. Shall I retrieve your coat?”

  “Coat?” She asked numbly. Why would she have a coat? She was wearing a light jacket.

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t need a coat. It’s fine.”

  “Never mind.” He nodded to a nearby attendant who hurried across the floor to him. “Please bring the carriage around. And I would like my coat. And please, I am quite through with this.”

  He removed the mask he was wearing and the man in the suit took it from him, bowed while muttering something Grace couldn’t understand, and then retreated in the direction he’d come from.

  His face, now that she could see all of it, stopped her heart for the briefest moment. His slate blue eyes sparkled when they made eye contact.

  He was maybe the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. Then the words he’d spoken caught up to her.

  A carriage? Wow, whatever this costume ball was, they clearly took authentic to a whole new level. It reminded her of one of those Civil War reenactments her father had dragged her to as a child.

  She sighed as she waited very impatiently for this supposed carriage. She noticed that she was getting strange looks and wondered if everyone at the party could tell she’d been crying. Could they tell that she was going crazy with worry?

  Maybe she was crazy.

  Then she remembered that these people were role-playing as vampires. She grunted. Whatever concern she might have had for her disheveled appearance evaporated. They were the crazy ones.

  “Where are we going? To the police? A phone?” Then she thought of something. “Wait. Look, I can tell that you and your—friends?—are taking this role playing thing very seriously. But you must have a cell phone. Please. Can I just use it? I need to get the police to start looking for her. And I’ve got to call and get a substitute for my class. There’s no way I’m going to make it in to work tomorrow.”

  She hoped the look in her eyes hinted at pleading and didn’t give away how irritated she was. If he knew she was irritated, maybe he wouldn’t help her.

  He chuckled under his breath and she fought the urge to punch him. He was laughing? She’d just begged him for help—help which he had willingly offered just a moment ago—and he had the nerve to laugh at her.

  She felt her blood pressure climb and her hands clench into fists. Her face got hot under his gaze and in response to her reaction, a smirk appeared on his face. A smirk that she would quite happily slap off his pretty face. And it was pretty. More than that. It was rugged. Handsome. But none of that mattered in the face of Gillian’s absence.

  She was just about to yell at the pompous man when the attendant that had gone for the carriage returned. “Your carriage, sir.”

  “Very well. Thank you. Please notify my sister and brother that I will send the carriage back for them shortly.”

  “I will tell Miss Anna, Your Grace. But your brother has already made his departure.”

  The man bowed at her handsome, although somewhat rude, knight in shining armor.

  “Very well. I will send for Anna later then. I believe she is not quite ready to leave.”

  He took Grace’s arm again and led her down the stone steps and assisted her into the carriage. The carriage began to roll down the street and she positioned herself so she could see out of the window. Any other time, she might have found this fascinating. Even beautiful. The snow was falling gently, flickering in the candle light that emanated from the sconces—like a scene from—wait. They were using candles outside. This was just a little ridiculous and beyond her ability to tolerate any further.

  “I’m sorry. You know what? Could you please just let me out? I need to find my sister. This is all very nice, and if I wasn’t desperate to find her I’m sure I’d find this all very quaint. And you are certainly very handsome. You do play the part of an eighteenth-century aristocrat quite well. But, I just can’t. Okay? Just please stop the horses and let me out. I need to find my sister. Right. Now.”

  She hated how frantic and desperate she sounded. She didn’t like having to ask a man for anything. Especially not tonight. After Jake. But he didn’t seem like the type of man that would respond to bossy.

  He leaned forward and took both her hands in his, clearly trying to calm her. His eyes were so gentle and caring it took her breath away. She felt as though she could see into his soul. For the briefest of moments, nothing existed outside of the carriage. There was nothing beyond the feeling of her hands tucked safely in between his. When he spoke, his voice wove a spell of comfort and calm. His breath smelled sweet—like honeysuckles.

  “Miss Carson. May I call you Grace?”

  She swallowed and nodded. If she’d been standing, her legs might not have continued to hold her up.

  “Grace. I have some things to tell you. It is going to be very difficult for you to understand, especially considering where you come from. But in order for you to be able to find your sister, there are some things you need to know about this place.”

  She nodded, tapping her foot impatiently. She was mesmerized by his voice, but she couldn’t quite quell the feeling of dread and terror that had consumed her since her sister’s disappearance. The echo of her fear was still there, deep in her soul. His voice and his eyes and his touch almost made her forget, but not quite.

  He took a deep breath, as if he was about to say something important.

  “What? Just get on with it.” He really had been nice to her. He didn’t deserve to have her snap at him—even if he had laughed at her earlier. But she couldn’t help it. And he didn’t even seem phased by it.

  She let out a deep breath.

  You can kill more flies with honey than with vinegar, Grace.

  She remembered her grandmother’s quote out of the blue and took another deep breath and squared her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly, forcing a smile to her lips. “You are very kind to help me. What is it that you need to tell me?”

  He cleared his throat. “Grace. You are in a place called Kendawyn. It exists outside of time and place. You will not find your sister here. Or telephones or any other such amenity that you may be used to you in your time. I am sorry. She is not here.”

  Philip Daventry, Duke of Silverhurst, stood in the foyer of the great St. Claire’s, the Vampire Triumvriant. He had a woman on his arm who had clearly traveled here from another time, one of the Tyro, and had no idea what had happened to her. And while he felt terrible for the poor distraught woman, he was glad to have a reasonable excuse to leave. Not showing up or paying the proper respects to the Vampire Prince St. Claire, one of the Triumvriate that ruled Kendawyn, would be disastrous for someone’s social standing. Not him, though. While not nearly as powerful as St. Claire was as Triumvriate, the Daventry and the St. Claire family had allied themselves throughout the years and St. Claire knew and was rather amused by Philip’s abhorrence of these social events. So, for him, it was all right to leave. Still, though, it was good he was seen leaving with a Tyro on his arm. It would satisfy his brother Nicholas and all his stuffy expectations, if nothing else. And now that he had found the woman from his dreams, he did not plan on leaving her alone.

  She asked for a telephone—he had certainly heard of a telephone from other arrivals, but did not have one to offer her. Not that it would have mattered. She could not call home from where she was now. He could not help but be amused by her demands for the police to be summoned. He chuckled as she spoke. He was enchanted by her eyes and her fiery temper. And when he laughed, he thought her head might turn in circles. She was so instantly angry that it amused him just a little.

  “Focus man,” he chided himself under his breath. She is clearly in distress and worried for her sister. Just because you know what has happened, does not mean that she does. He did not want
to appear to be a heartless dolt. Mercifully, the carriage appeared and he was spared any explanation of his behavior. He helped her into the carriage and then he could not help but notice her attractive figure—exposed as it was by her lack of period-appropriate clothing. She was vulnerable and afraid and in an unfamiliar place—alone—and he needed to be considerate to her. He would not criticize her for her dress for that issue alone, but also because he viewed the obligations of high society with disdain.

  How he treated her now would likely make a tremendous impact on how their marriage would fare in later years.

  Could this really be happening? His future wife sat across from him in the carriage completely unaware of who she was.

  He looked into her eyes as he spoke, holding her soft hands in hers. Had he ever felt hands so soft? When she replied so hotly to his statement, the jolt of attraction that passed between them left him breathless. He had to take a moment before he continued. This woman was amazing. This, he told himself, is what it should feel like to love someone. The passion, the heat, the longing. He had never been willing to settle. But this woman, she was home. She had haunted his dreams, and now she was here.

  It was time to tell her what had happened. He could no longer put it off, though he would have liked to have gotten her home and warmed up first. However, she clearly did not possess the patience to wait for his explanation.

  He had just opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him.

  “Kendawyn? Another place?” She shook her head as if trying to clear it. “I don’t understand.”

  He tried again to continue but was interrupted by her laugh. It started as a small chuckle but within seconds it had turned in to a full scale, very loud, slightly insane laugh. She sounded hysterical. He thought that perhaps she was losing her mind. Which would be entirely understandable given the circumstances. And quite ironic should he find himself married to someone who had lost her wits.