Morgan D'Arcy: A Vampyre Rhapsody
The greatest enemy of a vampire is boredom. Four centuries of existence have taught Lord Morgan Gabriel D'Arcy to fear nothing and no one. Humans and their weapons have little chance against his preternatural speed and arcane powers. Vampires are viral mutations of human DNA. Still, the Vampyre code requires secrecy, and he has learned to hide his nature from the world. The lure of mortality, of a life in the sun, puts Morgan again and again at the mercy of calculating human women though they fail to consider his charm and determination into the equation. However, even grooming a future bride from infancy proves to be fraught with heartbreak. And second chances are not always what they seem unless... you are Morgan. Immortality and beauty, aren’t they grand?
“Why didn’t you…you know…bite me?”
“You’re not my blood type.” I kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go home. I’ll bite you if you like.”
A fingertip traced my jaw. “You guys play a bit fast and loose for me. Fix those baby blues on me, Morgan, and make me forget everything. Including you.”
I didn’t want to make her forget. Finally, I’d found someone who believed that I was a different species, accepted the fact, and still cared for me. Sadness crept down my rigid spine on a chill.
“I know you can.” Tears in her eyes, she touched my mouth. “It’s what I want.”
“I received an email today from Charleston.” Lucien sounded weary, as sad as I felt and Ellen looked. “You can return to South Carolina. If that’s what you want.”
My heart leapt into my throat. Going back to Charleston, winning Isabeau was what I’d dreamed every night for six months. “Can we expect you at the wedding?”
Ellen roused to frown up at me. “What wedding?”
With the back of my hand, I caressed her cheek. “Mine.”
She made a pitiful grimace, but mischief sparkled in her eyes. “I thought my son would be born a bastard. Now, he’ll be an aristocratic bastard like his dad.”
Over her shoulder, I met Lucien’s gaze. The Chief Councilor arched a brow and simply stared at me for several heartbeats. A question burned in the depths of his black eyes. He awaited a decision I wasn’t prepared to give—even to myself. My old friend indicated Ellen with a nod of his head. She’s not pregnant. As if I didn’t know. He strode to the rail, staring at Margo’s corpse. The red heat sizzling along my skin sparkled in his aura. A brilliant halo engulfed the body. The remains of Margo St. Johns glowed, wavered like heat rising from hot tarmac, and vanished in an explosion of crimson light.
I freed Ellen from my embrace. “I must help Lucien dispose of the bodies before the police arrive and ask questions difficult to answer.”
She shook her head, a fingertip caressing my lower lip. “You need to stay with me…until you make me forget.”
I bent to whisper a kiss to her lips. “Ellen, never doubt that I love you.”
A tear drizzled down her cheek. “Make me forget. It’s better that way. As I said, it’s what I want. And what you obviously need.”