the Knights had been resurrected by a blood gift sipped from a golden chalice, they weren’t vampires. Though they had fangs, the Knights ate and drank only slightly less than the rest of the world’s population. Their blood wasn’t a restorative that could heal a reanimated corpse. He and his brethren weren’t gods. All seven had been human once.
“I don’t think you understand,” Rhys continued. “The point I’m making is that this woman is not for you. Not any of your concern.”
“Is that not so for you, as well?”
Rhys wasn’t entirely sure how to reply to that. Like the vampire, he had left his human existence behind and accepted the invitation to exist forever. But he had done so willingly. He doubted this vampire had chosen his afterlife’s direction, or that many would choose to live off the life force of others.
The Seven had been called back to life by a higher power than the black hand of Death. That beginning set them apart. His heart had been restarted for a golden purpose. Only through the miracle of a chalice often referred to as the Holy Grail had his heart and soul been retained.
“I suggest you take your hunger elsewhere,” Rhys warned. “Quite honestly, I’m not always this generous with your kind.”
The vampire bowed its head. “I find that I’d like to see her again. I will stay out of your way, however, for now, since you’ve asked so nicely.”
With a flurry of kicked-up street grime, followed by the sound of loose roof tiles creaking over Rhys’s head, the cheeky fanged bastard disappeared. The way they had of doing things like that was creepy, even to an immortal with equal abilities.
Nevertheless, Rhys’s interest in the pale immortal he’d kissed had just increased tenfold. Other creatures had found her twice, for some reason, when their usual MO was to avoid him and his kind. The creep he had spoken with was too interested in her, and that wasn’t right. If vampires spread the word that a pale immortal female had taken up residence, other monsters might come calling for reasons Rhys didn’t fully understand.
Did they honestly believe the snowy-haired female could help to reinstate their former lives? Change their fate? Too many vamps appearing at once to test that claim might not bode well for anyone on London’s streets after dark.
But it suited Rhys.
Taking out a bunch of vampires at once would help those unsuspecting mortal souls stay safe.
It was late. He had taken too much time here. Pulling his coat tighter, setting his intentions on a new course, Rhys followed the whiff of scent and the barely visible ribbon of light that were the angelic immortal female’s calling cards, which took him to the alley where she had first appeared.
Glancing up at the building beside him, hearing her warning about not finding her without an invitation, Rhys smiled and muttered, “Who can resist such a sweet-scented warrior?”
* * *
He was coming.
Either her powers of persuasion had dimmed considerably, or this Knight’s abilities had grown lately. Due to the strength of the feelings for him that she had sealed away, Avery couldn’t allow herself to be caught.
The choices were to run or face her dazzling nemesis one more time. Keep her secrets, or tell him the truth and see what he would do.
Roll of the dice. Which is it to be? Go or stay?
It wasn’t much of a choice, really. The Knight was right. After finding her, having his hands on her, there wouldn’t be anywhere for her to go in this city that he couldn’t find if he tried hard enough. One kiss and an old blood bond had seen to that.
But she could not leave London. Leaving would mean losing the opportunity to search for the things so important to her after exhausting her search elsewhere. The things that had been hidden from her, belonged to her, called out with a distant, elusive hum, as if they also craved a reunion. Caution was needed, though. She had been fooled before.
Avery was aware of every step toward her the Blood Knight took.
“You don’t own the city, Guardian,” she whispered. “You might be its keeper, but you’re not mine.”
Too late now.
One more time, she told herself. See him just once.
She could handle that.
In a ruffle of night air, he was there.
“You keep turning up,” she said as he climbed over the ledge.
His appearance on the rooftop might have upset her confidence somewhat, because when viewing the entirety of this guy from a distance, the effect on her system was elaborate.
The third Blood Knight to have ridden forth from Castle Broceliande’s massive iron gates no longer donned the golden armor he’d once worn in honor of his Quest. He didn’t bear the Knights’ red-striped ebony crest of the Grail protectors. But he was always mesmerizing.
The modern duster coat and dark jeans suited him. So did the shorn hair that now only brushed his collar. Where she was white, he was bronze. His luster hadn’t faded the way hers had. At times, over the years, she had envied his polished allure.
“Yes. About that,” he said, coming closer. “You did leave a trail.”
“Impossible,” she argued.
“Fortuitous,” he corrected. “Because I believe we have some unfinished business to talk over that rules out distance for the time being.”
“Misguided persistence will get you nowhere,” Avery warned. “Neither will flattery, so don’t bother. The fact is, you have followed me again.”
“I did warn you that until I know what and who you are, this city might be at risk and I would be responsible.”
“I’m no predator. I would have thought you’d have figured that out by now,” she said.
“I don’t believe you are a predator. I’m just not sure what you are or why my soul recognizes yours in some way. I’m not sure I can rest until I know why.”
Avery took a wide stance with both arms loose at her sides. Inside, she was fluttering again.
“That’s quite a line about souls. Do women usually fall for it?”
“Mortal women sometimes do.” His tone was light. The situation wasn’t.
Avery stopped short of asking him how many humans he’d tried that soul-to-soul business on. She wiped risqué images of him in bed with mortal females from her mind quickly. This bastard was charm incarnate when he wanted to be, and he was turning that charm her way. However, it had been many years since she’d trusted anyone.
“Then I suggest you find someone more amenable to bedroom talk,” she said. “The night isn’t over. If you hurry, you might find a taker.”
After a pause, he said, “Can we cut the crap? I’m not attacking you. I’m merely asking a few pertinent questions.”
“I told you I’m not in the habit of telling strangers anything about myself and made it clear I owe you nothing. What don’t you get, Blood Knight? Why can’t you honor my privacy?”
“I think you have some responsibility to come clean. There aren’t many of us, or beings much like us. I can feel the power you possess. What I can’t do is place it. I need to know if you’re in any way like me.”
“Nothing like you,” she replied to get him off her back. That was the truth. She couldn’t lie. Not outright. Neither of them could, because of that touch of the heavens they possessed.
Her answer clearly frustrated him. His hands opened and closed, forming and reforming fists as if he might wring the answers from her that he needed. Power meant danger in his world, and as he’d said, she was an unknown. Yet understanding how he felt and doing something