The Gentleman Read online

  “Maybe because the teacher isn’t all he makes himself out to be,” she snapped, reminding me of our ongoing conversation. My attention, however, was not fixed on her words. Instead, the sound of her blood rushing through her veins hit me like a freight train. I immediately took a step back from her just as my fangs elongated of their own accord. I wanted to feed from her. The urgent desire to do so suddenly overcame me, demanding immediate satiety. I clenched my eyes shut tightly and forced the urge back into submission. I could not allow her to observe me having trouble controlling my own primal instincts. Feeling beyond perplexed over that fact, I did not want to draw any more attention to it.

  “Your meaning, pet?” I managed.

  “If you want me to learn how to defend myself properly, you have to practice with me more,” she explained. Her vigorous nodding suggested her neck wished to demonstrate its agreement as well. “Practice makes perfect, right?”

  “You carry on as if I am your nursemaid,” I grumbled at her, my eyebrows furrowing in the center of my forehead. While I found our conversation trifling, I had managed to repress my body’s reaction to her again, which pleased me no end.

  “You’re hardly my nursemaid,” she retorted with a quick shake of her head. “If anything, I’m the one who has to keep reminding you that we need to practice!”

  “You are rather amusing today, to say the least,” I replied. Again, I fought to ignore the need to pierce my fangs deeply into her neck. It was bizarre because I had fed quite recently and yet it seemed to make little difference. True, the blood running through the shrew’s veins and arteries was nothing like I had ever experienced before. Still, that did not explain this driving compulsion that was nearly overtaking me and clouding my judgment. And as to her blood, which tastes sweeter than any other I have ever sampled, it also endows me with abilities I had only ever dreamt of. Most notably, the ability to walk in the daylight. Needless to say, my hunger for her was undeniable and growing by the second. Perhaps it always had been.

  “Puhleeze, Sinjin,” she started. “Sell your excuses to someone else because I’m not buying them.”

  “Mayhap you have forgotten,” I started while gritting my teeth. I remembered she and I still needed to engage in a conversation that I was more than certain she was avoiding. “But as the guardian to the queen, I am a very busy man. You should consider yourself fortunate that I can manage to carve any time from my demanding schedule for you at all.”

  “Really, Sinjin?” she asked, dropping her hands on her hips and regarding me with ill humor. I nodded a silent response to her question. She immediately began shaking her head and appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be quite put out. “Give me a break! If you weren’t training with me right now, you’d be snoozing underneath your tree!” she insisted. “You know that as well as I do.”

  “I am not in the mood to discuss the finer aspects of indulging in a midnight siesta beneath the stars,” I started, although my eyes were riveted on the steady beating of her carotid artery.

  “Stop looking at me like you want to eat me for dinner,” she ground out, her sour expression discouraging, to say the least.

  I immediately brought my gaze back to hers and smiled. “For I am certain that would fall upon deaf ears.”

  “I’m not interested in verbally sparring with you either,” she agreed.

  “Thank the darkness for that,” I quipped as she widened her stance, holding her hands up in a “come hither” motion, indicating she was ready for another sort of sparring. But I was not keen to enter that type of sparring either. Were we horizontally positioned, however, I would have been more than eager …

  I grumbled an unintelligible comment, even to my own ears, before flickering through time and space, disappearing and reappearing right beside her in the mere blink of an eye. When I landed, I noticed her eyes were closed. The reason for that was so she could better detect me by using her other senses. When she opened her eyes, she gracefully pivoted on her toes and twirled around to face me. She held her hand out in front of her to simulate a sword, or, perhaps, a firearm.

  “Got you,” she said with a self-impressed smile that I found a little too charming.

  What has gotten into you, old man? I reprimanded myself. The weak reply was I did not know why my feelings towards her were suddenly so irrepressible.

  “So it seems you have,” I smiled, struggling not to rake her figure from head to toe. There were moments when the shrew’s unflagging beauty nearly caught me off guard. My feelings became strangely alien, even to myself. These fleeting moments, though rare and far between, disrupted my concentration because they surprised me. And I detest surprises. After enduring one century after another, surprises rarely enter the picture. That is exactly the way I prefer it.

  “Perhaps we can retire now?” I asked with a hopeful expression. “There is another subject that I wish to discuss with you.”

  “You were going easy on me, weren’t you?” she swiftly interjected. She dropped her smile and a frown took its place as she studied me from narrowed, suspicious eyes. My failure to respond only seemed to further anger her. “You were going easy on me!”

  “I was doing nothing of the sort!” I staunchly replied. In truth, however, I most certainly had “gone easy on her,” as she so phrased it.

  “How dumb do you think I am, Sinjin?” she demanded. As she glared up at me, I had to take a step away from her. The delicious smell of her skin with the blood pulsing beneath it was almost overwhelming. I feared losing self-control, which would only further distance her. It was important that she trust me, for I was the closest ally she had.

  “Dumb?” I repeated, sounding astonished.

  “Yes, dumb!”

  “Well, on that subject, you have not opened your mouth, as it were,” I started, but she interrupted me.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Better to be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt,” I quoted from Shakespeare. She shook her head fervently in protest. Not only was she uninterested in the bard’s quote, but she refused to listen to me in general.

  “Stop trying to let me win,” she insisted. “The whole point of practicing is so I can improve. If you keep rigging it so I always win, I’m not learning anything new or useful.”

  “How dare you accuse me of duplicitous behavior?!” I replied defensively. However, my thoughts were not on the conversation. Instead, I was considering a much more important discussion, which was still waiting in the wings.

  “There’s no supposing!” she railed back at me. “I am accusing you of duplicitous behavior because you’re cheating!”

  “You offend me, madam,” I said with mock sensitivity. “Perhaps we should retire for the time being, and pursue various other subjects?”

  “I’m not retiring until you come at me for real,” she replied. She crossed her arms over her ample bosoms as if to exaggerate her refusal to yield until I did.

  “Very well,” I said with a heartfelt sigh. With a brief glance down at the infuriating woman, I vanished a second later. When I reappeared, I was directly behind her. I gripped both of her upper arms and heard her hiss in astonishment as she inhaled her shock. I leaned down until my mouth was beside her right ear. “It would appear you have been caught,” I whispered.

  I sensed the ensuing rush of her blood as her pulse sped up. I could smell her perspiration, something which thrilled me to my very core. The heaviness between my legs demanded my immediate attention and I chastised myself for becoming so aroused. My fangs were already descended and it was difficult at best to keep myself from sinking them into her supple neck.

  “Let me go,” she said in a soft, breathy voice.

  “Were I a Daywalker, you would now be my captive,” I replied, not bothering to release her in the slightest. I closed my eyes and gratefully inhaled her unique scent.

  “I said, let me go,” she repeated, her tone of voice growing steely, even angry.

  I imm
ediately unhanded her. Taking control of my wayward emotions, I surprised myself. Not only had I fed sumptuously the evening prior to this, but I also enjoyed the curvaceous body of a very willing and passionate woman. There was no logic behind this wild desire that seemed to insist upon running rampant inside me. My fondest appetites had been amply gratified. And yet …

  “Don’t do that again,” the shrew said, taking a good five steps away from me before turning around to face me. Her visage reflected her disproportionate anger. Her eyes narrowed as her cheeks flushed with heat.

  “You asked me to play fairly,” I started.

  “That wasn’t fair.”

  “The battleground is never fair, my pet,” I informed her. “That is the first rule you must realize.”

  “I know that,” she spat back insolently. “I meant, your … your closeness, your proximity to me, that wasn’t fair. You know how I feel about that.”

  I had a good idea of how she felt about being touched, especially by men. She meticulously shunned anyone who came near her, lest she share physical contact with them. Of course, I was privy to how this unreasonable fear originated. While being held prisoner in Luce’s facility, she was methodically abused, and her own body was used against her wishes. She had had something taken from her which should have been hers to give away—her virginity. Consequently, she was now frigid, afraid to let any man approach her in any sort of demonstrative manner.

  “I am well aware of how you feel about it,” I started in a soft tone, taking the steps that separated us. “And with regard to that very topic, you seem to be doing your best at avoiding the very conversation that you know we both must have.”

  She immediately began shaking her head. “We don’t need to have any more conversations or discussions, Sinjin.”

  “You know that is untrue,” I said, scrutinizing her narrowly. “There is an enormous elephant in the room, as it were.”

  “As long as it isn’t trumpeting at me, I’m okay with that.”

  “Unfortunately, I am not,” I persisted.

  She turned on her heel and started walking away from me. I immediately materialized through the air until I was standing right in front of her. Stopping short with a quick gasp, she swallowed hard as her eyes found mine.

  “Allow me to help you,” I began, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the words coming out of my mouth. I was suddenly stumped as to the best way to broach the topic.

  “I don’t want anything from you, other than your training,” she announced firmly.

  “Bryn,” I began, but she shook her head emphatically.

  “I am a warrior,” she announced. “That is all I ever have been and all I ever want to be.”

  “No,” I argued. “You are so much more than that, and you know it.”

  She continued to shake her head as she walked away from me. Then she paused and turned around to face me, her expression blank. “What are you asking me, Sinjin?”

  “You know quite well what I am asking,” I said in a softer tone as I approached her. I fought the urge to reach out to touch her since I knew better. As a rule, she was skittish, and even the slightest gesture of touching her would certainly push her further away. “Allow me to help you. Allow me to enlighten you as to what physical love can be between a man and a woman.”

  “No,” she nearly interrupted me. “I will never allow any man to touch me again. Not you, not anyone.” Without waiting for my response, she hastily turned around and ran back through the winding trail that led to Kinloch Kirk. I allowed her to flee without chase. I preferred to be left alone with my thoughts.

  I will hunt each fucking bastard down who dared to touch her and tear them limb from limb, my voice echoed inside my head. I was surprised to discover my hands were balled into fists when my fingernails began digging into my palms. Each one will pay for forcing himself on her. And I shall relish nothing more than glimpsing the abject fear in their eyes as I destroy them, one by one.

  THREE

  “Betta, do slow down, please,” I pleaded. The little mouse had a tendency to speak so quickly, her words blended together until they sounded like nothing more than drivel.

  “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” she said, enunciating every word while her voice increased in volume. She dropped the point of her sword into the dirt before catching her breath. We had been practicing swordplay for only a few minutes, but she was inexperienced, and annoyingly so. It seemed as though the mere weight of her sword were enough to throw her off balance.

  “I am not deaf, my dear,” I informed her. “I merely asked you to slow down, not to speak up.” Sighing audibly, even though it was all for show, I waited for her reply. Breathing is useless to Master Vampires or bloodsuckers, but it does serve a purpose: if only to express one’s irritation. “As to what I am getting myself into, I have a good idea.”

  “No, you don’t,” she argued as she glared up at me.

  “On the contrary … I do,” I stated matter-of-factly. Glancing down at the blade of my own sword, I saw my reflection looking back at me beneath the silver glare of the moon. The blade was long, clean and without any visible flaws.

  It will not remain clean for very long, I promised myself. Indeed, the goals I set would require the blade to be covered with the blood of every single filthy Elemental and Daywalker who dared to violate the Lady Bryn. Such was my mission, the sole thought and outcome that dominated my thoughts since the critical moment when Bryn confessed what happened to her. There was nothing else that motivated me.

  “Then you wouldn’t be going alone,” Betta answered. I was of the belief that dear Betta had inherited some of the Lady Bryn’s rebellious disobedience as the two are very close. While the shrew does not, as a rule, trust anyone, owing to her suspicious nature, Betta is perhaps the only exception to that rule. And for good reason.

  The story of Betta and Bryn began when Luce decided to abscond with the queen. Being a pragmatic creature, Luce planned to nab the queen on a day when she and her people were wholly focused on joyous events instead of defensive measures. That day, as it turned out, was her wedding day. She planned to wed the todger, Randall, and while the wedding festivities were on high, Luce began his nefarious attack.

  At the time, Lady Bryn was in cahoots with Luce. She was planted inside Kinloch Kirk as a mole, and well aware of his despicable intentions to capture Jolie. In a moment of truth, however, she proved her true character and revealed her love for her sister by allying herself with her sister at the last moment. In an attempt to thwart Luce’s plans, Bryn approached me and divulged his intentions to kidnap the queen. As the queen’s protector, of course, I had to ensure that did not happen. Even though Jolie was very heavy with child at the time, I managed to transport both her and Bryn to a secret cave that was not far off the shores of Kinloch Kirk.

  There, Jolie gave birth to a daughter, the princess, not long before Luce’s arrival. In a moment of sacrifice, the Lady Bryn magicked a ruse: she and the queen switched identities. The scam worked to perfection, perhaps too perfectly. Luce mistook Bryn for Jolie and imprisoned her at one of his many training facilities.

  During the lady’s confinement, Betta proved to be her only friend. Being a human and, therefore, devoid of magic, Betta was relegated to a member of the house staff, or “the help.” She brought Bryn her meals and, in so doing, the two formed a fast friendship. That bond was further cemented when Betta freed Bryn, and they both escaped together. Which brings us back to the current moment …

  “Again, little mouse,” I said as I motioned to her sword. She picked it up and held it improperly. I crossed my arms over my chest and regarded her with mild peevishness. “My dear, am I to infer that you have already forgotten everything you learned in our first lesson?”

  “Remind me?” she asked with a sheepish grin.

  “Blimey,” I muttered derisively. It did not please me to learn she had already forgotten the hour-long session we were engaged in only the previous day.
I stressed how important it was that Betta learn to defend herself in case a negative situation ever arose. With such bad blood flowing between our people and those following Luce, I imagined that catastrophe was just around the corner. “Grip your sword with your dominant hand! No! Just below the guard! And grab the pommel …”

  “The whattel?”

  “Bloody hell,” I grumbled while shaking my head and berating myself for kindly offering to train her in the first place. “The bottom of the sword, you little twit!”

  “Twit? Who says that?” she chirped with a giggle as she shook her head. “You’re totally showing your age, Sinjin,” she teased, poking me in the upper arm.

  “Showing my age?” I repeated, sounding legitimately baffled. “You must feel quite brazen in mocking me since I am merely striving to help you,” I said. I cocked one eyebrow as I regarded her with a frown. “Not to mention my growing hunger, for I have not fed this day.”

  Her eyes went wide for a second until she realized I was merely jesting with her. “Ha ha, Sinjin, very funny.”

  “Stop your lollygagging! Get back to basics, as it were,” I started as I pointed to her sword.

  “Done and done.”

  “Praise be for small mercies!” I grumbled wearily, returning my attention to the task at hand. “With your left hand, grip the sword tightly with your pinky, ring, and middle fingers,” I continued. The best way for instructing her on the proper technique for holding a sword was by illustrating it on my own.

  “Like this?” she asked.

  “I suppose that will do,” I answered. “You must remember that you win battles by knowing the enemy's timing, and using a timing which the enemy does not expect,” I said.