Page 45 of The Duke’s Bloody Bargain

My condition had to be temporary.

He fiddled with the letter. “Perhaps we don’t need to use brutal force. We should convince him to come to Raven Hall and join us in our search for Rothbart. Our best chance at controlling him is to know his movements and be able to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t kill anyone. That would be a good start.”

“I think I should go out tonight.” I scratched my chin, trying to ignore their tempting heartbeats. “I’m much better. I promise. And we can’t postpone the search further.”

He exchanged a glance with Irene and nodded. “Fine. But the only thing you’ll do is talk some sense into him.”

“Talk. You want me to talk with the vampire who bit off a piece of me?” I couldn’t completely remove the frustration from my voice.

“Precisely. Talk. Nothing more.” Darius patted my shoulder. “Try to convince him that we mean to join forces with him and find Rothbart. We’ll come with you, and while we’re going to Whitechapel, we’ll pay a visit to Lucy.”

In the carriage as we rode to Whitechapel, I remained silent and mulled over the situation.

The truth of what was happening to me was undeniable. My control had almost slipped away, and I risked turning into a rogue without having killed anyone or drained anyone, only out of pleasure.

I’d thought the rules not to become a rogue were clear.

Don’t kill, don’t let the thirst control you, don’t drain people.

I’d believed that, if I followed those rules, I would never become a rogue.

But there was a fourth hidden rule.

Don’t make deals with witches who practise dark magic.

Congratulations, Alex. You’ve won the first prize for the dumbest vampire of the century.

No vampire in history had ever become a rogue by behaving as well as I had.

Irene and Darius were nervous, too. The bond was a taut rope that tugged at my heart, and Darius was as jolly as a mortician. I’d upset the only two people who cared about me.

The carriage came to a stop, and we filed out without a word.

The streetlamps produced an annoying glow in the fog. And the light rain soaking my coat and slipping under my collar unnerved me.

Irene and Darius were both armed with blessed water, crosses, and silver daggers. Exactly how I wanted the people I cared for to be with me.

Irene walked next to me, on the alert and dejected, but she hadn’t given up on me. She was the only ray of sunshine in my life. Metaphorically speaking.

She gave me a feeble smile. Our bond betrayed her sadness. I wasn’t cheerful either. The cobbles were slippery with rain, and yards away, a rat was feasting on a pile of rubbish.

We stopped at Lucy’s house, and Darius knocked, gazing at me. I wondered if he expected me to attack him.

Myrtha opened the door and smiled warmly at Irene but frowned when Darius and I entered. Nothing new. At least there were things that remained normal.

“How are you, Lucy?” Irene walked over to Lucy, who was working with thread and needle on a shirt so worn I wouldn’t use it as a rag.

She put down the work. “Much better, thank you.”

She was indeed. Her skin was still pale, and she’d lost weight, but she wasn’t shivering and sweating. Her heartbeat thumped steadily, too.

“Your Grace.” She tried to stand up, but I stopped her.

“No need to stand up for me. I’m happy you’re recovering.” I noticed a thick blue vein under her pale skin. I would lie if I said it didn’t tempt me. “The vampire must have simply fed on you.”

“Knight’s men don’t seem to understand that.” Myrtha perched on a chair, looking regal in her cream-coloured gown and at odds with the miserable environment. “They keep coming here, asking questions and sniffing the air like hounds. They have no manners.”

“Because they sniff the air?” Darius asked.