Page 22 of Eternal Surrender
That dark phantom had seemed more like a large rodent than a vampire.
“You’ll soon want to reverse this mess.” Catherine’s words still rung in my ears.
Nausea came out of nowhere, and I wretched against the wall.
Wiping my mouth with my sleeve, I headed back up the track trying to shake the feeling of being watched again from the shadows.
Whatever it was, it was gone before I could react.
A flash of electricity lit up the tunnel and there, standing just a few feet away, was a familiar green-eyed, titian-haired vampire staring back, a man who could have just stepped out of a painting by Botticelli. His steeliness reflected a timeless intensity, a proud and effortless stature eliciting an array of emotions and stirring memories spanning centuries; enough devilish adventures to spill tears of laughter from both of us.
Having rescued this wayward nightwalker over four hundred years ago, it pained me he didn’t recognize me.
Maybe it was for the best. Marcus wouldn’t believe me anyway, and if I told him, I risked turning myself into a threat and he might see me as something to destroy.
“Marcus.” It felt good to say his name.
“How do you know who I am?” he asked, his cockney accent as rich as ever.
“Everyone knows who you are, Marcus,” I said confidently. “You’re vampire sovereignty.”
His gaze narrowed. “Who are you?”
“William Rolfe,” I said it quickly, hoping he’d believe it.
“What are you doing down here?”
I shut my mind down, making it impenetrable. “Searching for someone.”
“Who?”
“Paradom.”
“Apparently there is a crazy down here, but I don’t know his name.” Marcus lowered his chin and locked on me trying to extract more.
“What are you doing down here?” I asked.
His gaze narrowed, hinting he didn’t like being spoken to like that. “One of my men detected a Status Regal in London,” he said. “Thought I’d check it out.”
“A Status Regal, down here?”
“I lost him,” Marcus admitted.
Actually, he hadn’t. I was the Status Regal he’d been tracking, but admitting that would result in more questions.
My presence was unmistakably regal. A superior vampire, and the odds of another like me in London were almost nonexistent. Still, hiding my supremacy was an art I had mastered.
Marcus’s gaze scoured the tunnel. “What do you want with Paradom?”
“Information.”
“About what?”
“Lots of questions, Marcus.”
“Seems like I’m the one with the answers.”
“You’re looking for Orpheus?” I watched his reaction.
