Within an hour she was on her way. But she didn’t even reach the outskirts of London before her travels were interrupted. The horses let out frightened whinnies and reared up. Her driver stopped the carriage instantly, pulling back the horses and trying to calm them, but they were scared out of their wits.
Rose poked her head out of the carriage. “What seems to be the problem, William?”
Instead of an answer, her driver suddenly screamed. The carriage rattled as if somebody had jumped onto it. A struggle ensued. But within seconds it was over. Quiet spread through the night again.
“William?” Panic coursed through her veins, where her blood had turned to ice.
Her trusted servant didn’t respond. Oh God, no! She craned her neck trying to see what had happened.
“Now that we’re alone, let’s talk.”
The stranger’s voice came from behind her. She whirled around, but he’d already opened the carriage door and squeezed inside. His clothes were simple, but his face was all she could look at. His eyes glared red the way she’d seen Quinn’s eyes glare, and pointy fangs protruded from his mouth. Blood trickled from them.
She screamed.
All it earned her was his mocking laughter.
“Nobody will hear you. Your driver is dead. Damn tasty too. Who would have thought an old man like him has such sweet blood? But then, you can never tell what’s inside until you open a present, can you?”
Shrinking back from him, her hand reached for the door on the other side, but the vampire’s hand clamped around her wrist like a vice in a motion too fast for her eyes to follow.
“Let me go!”
His eyes bored into her. “I can’t do that.”
“Who are you? What do you want? Money?”
“Apologies, my lady. I neglected to introduced myself. I am Wallace.”
Wallace? Where had she heard that name before?
“I’m Quinn’s maker. His sire, the vampire who made him what he is today. I saved his life on the battlefield.”
Rose gasped. “Oh God, no!” Quinn had sent him after her to hurt her.
“I saved his life on the battlefield so he could come back to you.” Suddenly his voice turned to ice. “And what do you do? You reject his love. You toss him out on the street. You think you’re better than him?”
Wallace lashed an angry glare at her.
“You’re not any better than Quinn, not once I’m done with you.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
“Yes, you know what’s coming, don’t you? I’ll make you in his image.”
“No,” she whispered, her voice deserting her.
“You’ll be like him. You’ll be equals then. There will be no more reason to reject him. He will finally get what he wants.”
A terrible thought spread in her heart. “Did he ask you to do that?”
“Quinn? He’s too distraught to think. You brought this on yourself! It’s my gift to him.”
Why his words gave her momentary relief, she didn’t have time to contemplate, because Wallace grabbed her and pulled her closer. Despite her struggles, she couldn’t get away from him. Kicking and screaming did nothing to dissuade him from his mission.
His head came closer, ever closer to her throat until his lips connected with the skin on her neck. A moment later she felt his fangs. Then a violent pain. She fought against him, the pain in her neck intensifying, spreading over her entire body as his fangs dug deeper.
When darkness encroached she fought against that too, but her struggle was useless, her body too weak to hold off the inevitable. He was turning her into a monster, and she had no way of stopping him.
Darkness came and went. The pain anchored in her heart, spreading like black mold. It engulfed her entire being, overtook her senses so all she could think of was the throbbing hurt of a life lost. She would never be the same again.
Even as she was reborn that same night, the pain never vanished.
When Rose took her first breath as a vampire and opened her eyes to a new world, she found herself in a shabby room. From the noise she heard coming from downstairs, she knew she was in some tavern.
Everything seemed sharper, her vision, her hearing, her sense of smell. Particularly the last. But all she could think of as she reared up from her position on the hard bed was the thirst that controlled her like the strings of a marionette. She needed to drink, to still the thirst that drove her wild.
“Finally awake.”
Wallace’s voice was the last thing in the world she wanted to hear. But he was here, sitting in front of the fireplace. At his feet, she noticed a bundle. Her eyes honed in on it, as did her nose. It smelled delicious.