Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

caught it. He smelled sweat and fear from the servant girl and was able to follow it along the landing and directly to the attic where the servants slept. He found the girl crouched at the top of a very narrow staircase, listening. When she saw Raven approach her in the thin light from a narrow window above, she fainted, slithering down the steps into his arms.
    The beast was upon him now and he lost control. With the tip of his knife he made a tiny nick in the large vein of her neck and drank deeply for over a minute. Only when he paused, his hunger beginning to be sated, did he notice how strong and bitter her blood tasted. He wondered briefly what she ate to make it so. He licked his lips, deciding he had had sufficient for now to take the edge off. With care, he pressed his forefinger to the small wound until he was certain the blood had stopped flowing. He would not have the girl bleed to death—he had not come to kill her.
    Less than ten minutes later he was outside in the freezing night, riding hard toward Yorkshire and home. Riding toward Evangeline, and amazed to find that he wanted to see her, that he wanted to try again.
    He could easily tame her and make her submit, he just didn’t want to. He wanted her to obey him because she wanted to, not because she had no choice. Why did she defy him at every turn? Why did she hate him so much? Was he so repugnant and was it because he was a vampire or because she disliked him as a man?
    He would go home to Castle Haven, have a long rest and then talk to her, try to be kind, try not to lose his temper. I want her to love me .

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    He rode on quite determined to try again.

    Sanguinarian 113

Chapter Eight
    Lacking all amusements, no books or sewing to work on, Evangeline had far too much time to think, leaving her thoughts to wander down endless dark and sinister passages.
    She had heard a woman scream both on the day she arrived with Mrs. Brackett and yesterday. Something very strange was going on at Castle Haven, quite aside from the strangeness of his lordship. Was it possible he had another woman imprisoned there as well? Another woman who had refused to marry him, just as she had. Her mind began to race with possibilities. He could have any number of prisoners in rooms like this in the castle ready to give him their blood at his pleasure. Would he want to devour her blood once they were wed? Would he keep her locked in the tower forever where no one could help her?
    She had to escape. There had to be a way to get out.

    By the time darkness had fallen outside and the one candle she had in the room was lit, she had worked herself in to such a frenzy of fear and suspicion that she could not touch her dinner at all and sat staring at the fire, listening for every creak, every gust of wind, every scratch of a mouse scurrying by her door.
    When Raven entered on soft feet, she was beginning to doze in her chair. Sensing a presence, her eyes flew open to see him leaning against the cold stone wall across the chamber, his long, lean body reclining comfortably. The moonlight creeping in through the shutter made his angular face appear for a moment like a mask. A strangled cry escaped her.
    “I thought you had given up screaming at the sight of me, Miss 114
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    Rutledge.”
    “I was not expecting you, my lord.” She drew back in her chair, pulling her shawl closer about her shoulders. “You frightened me.”
    She squinted to see him better. “Your face is scratched.”
    “A branch caught me when I was out riding. I did not see it in the dark.”
    “You didn’t see something in the dark?” She almost laughed. “I don’t believe you.”
    “Your meal is untouched.” He nodded at her dinner tray sitting on the hearth. “Did you not like it? I can send for something else.” His voice was tender, putting her on guard. Should she trust him? She wanted desperately to trust someone. No, she could not let her guard down.
    “My appetite has left me,” she said simply.
    “I hope it returns soon. I would not have you wither away to nothing.” He smiled. “Why don’t sleep in the bed? You would be more comfortable and warmer.”
    “I cannot imagine you would care if I should become ill and die.
    Not until after the wedding anyway.”
    “Actually I do.” He pushed himself upright and moved toward her. “You must provide me with an heir.”
    Evangeline started. “But you said nothing about an heir.”
    “An heir is taken for