streaming down her face. “Isabel,” he said, starting toward her.
“Stay back!” she ordered, holding up the cross, and he recoiled, blinded with pain. “Don’t touch me!”
“Darling, please,” he said, weeping blood tears of his own. “Let me make you understand.”
“Would you entrance me, too?” she demanded.
“No, I swear.” He reached for her, the cross holding him at bay. She had no evil in her heart, no malice, and he had betrayed her, brought hell itself into her sanctuary. “That creature was never your father—”
“And what are you, beloved?” Even now, she could not help but love him; even stained with blood, his face was beautiful, the face of her angel. But how could she believe him? “What is it you want?”
“Just you,” he promised, moving closer in spite of the pain, desperate to reach her. “I love you, Isabel.”
“No,” she said softly, barely louder than a whisper.
“Yes,” he promised, coming closer still. “I love you.” He reached out to touch her.
“No!” she screamed, backing away, and Brautus attacked, plunging his sword into Simon’s stomach. Isabel’s screams dried up into a gasp as the vampire stared down at the blade, then back up into Brautus’s eyes. “No,” she said more softly, almost a whisper. “Brautus, no…” She took a step toward him, a sob rising in her throat.
But her lover didn’t fall. Suddenly he started laughing, so much like the demon, the vampire who had fallen from the window, she thought she must be dreaming. “Simon?”
Simon fell to his knees, still laughing, and Brautus let go of the sword. “The Black Knight,” the vampire rasped, drawing the blade from his stomach, his frozen flesh hissing as it healed.
“Sweet Christ,” Isabel said softly, clutching the cross. “Save us, please, dear God…”
“He will,” Simon answered, letting the sword fall from his hand. “You are innocent.”
“And why are you not?” She moved closer, her hand outstretched. She wanted to touch him, to comfort him, but she was afraid, not just for herself, but for Charmot. He looked up at her, the anguish in his eyes like a knife in her heart. But could a demon feel grief? “Tell me, Simon.” She held the cross out before her, and he flinched as if it hurt him as it had hurt the other creature. “What are you?” She wept for him, but she feared him, too.
“Vampire.” He crouched on the floor, his face turned away, and she thought of the wolf he had become. The wolf… Mother Bess had said that the wolf cannot die. Brautus made a noise beside her, and Simon looked up at him, a strange, scary smile on his face. “I am a vampire.”
“Begone!” Brautus said, taking the cross from Isabel and thrusting it forward, making Simon recoil. “In the holy name of Christ, begone!”
“No,” Isabel said, but Brautus held her back in a grip of iron. “Simon, please, just tell me how to help you.” Surely now he would tell her the truth; surely now he could have no more reason to lie. She was the lady of Charmot; she had a duty to protect her people. Her angel was a monster, a vampire. But she loved him even so; even now she wanted nothing more than to comfort him. Surely somehow she could do both. “I want to believe you, Simon. I want to—”
“No.” If Simon could have willed his death, he would have at that moment. But he could not die any more than he could live. “There is nothing to believe.” Lucan Kivar was returned. The monster had come to his love’s very tower, he had touched her. Simon had brought him to her. He staggered to his feet, and Brautus held the cross out again, holding Isabel back. But he didn’t need the talisman. Simon wouldn’t touch her. “I am sorry, my love.” He would protect her even if she hated him; he would save her from Lucan Kivar. He loved her, and he could not stop. But he could leave her. He could keep her safe.
“No!” Isabel lunged for him again, but Brautus held her in a grip of iron. “Simon, stop!” But he was gone.
He fled out the door, moving faster as he reached the stairs. “My lord, what has happened?” Hannah asked as he passed her in the hall, and he broke into a run. He was not her lord and never could be. Malachi was still waiting in the courtyard where he had left him, and he swung into the saddle just as Kevin and the others came charging through the gates.
“My lord!” Kevin shouted. “My lord, wait!” Simon spurred Malachi into a gallop, scattering dogs and gravel in every direction. In a single, mighty leap, they cleared the wagon and thundered through the gates, jumping again as the drawbridge was raised to land with a scramble on the opposite bank. Rearing once as he brought the horse around, the vampire fled into the night.
Isabel heard the horse on the drawbridge and stopped fighting Brautus. It was too late. She would never catch him now. “Damn you,” she murmured as he let her go, crumpling to the floor, great gasping sobs threatening to choke her as she fell. Simon had said that he loved her. Simon was a vampire. She touched the sword he had pulled from his own stomach, the blade that should have been thick with his blood. It was as clean as if it had just been lifted from the grindstone and hot enough to burn her fingertips. Her lover was a demon. “No,” she said softly through her tears, sinking even deeper until she lay face down on the rug. “It can’t be true.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Brautus said. He bent down and took hold of her arms, hauling her upright again with no great show of tenderness. “We have no time for that.” She stared at him, aghast, as he wiped her eyes with the tail of her apron as he had done when she had fallen down and skinned her knee as a child. “You are the lady of Charmot, remember?” he said more gently as Kevin came running in behind him.
“Lady Isabel, are you all right?” the groom demanded, pale and agitated.
“She’s fine,” Brautus answered. “Tell us what happened at the churchyard.”
“Sir Simon… something tried to attack Tom,” Kevin said.
“Sir Simon attacked him?” Brautus said.
“No,” Kevin said with a frown. “Sir Simon saved him. He is downstairs now. But Sir Simon left us at a gallop. He said he had to come and save Lady Isabel.” Isabel gasped, swaying on her feet, and Brautus took hold of her arm.
“He saved me,” Isabel said. “If he is evil, Brautus, why did he save me?”