Free The Vampire Dimitri by Colleen Gleason Page A

she could press him further, there were footsteps and voices in the foyer.
    â€œMy lord,” said the butler as he appeared. “Mr. Giordan Cale has arrived.”
    Maia hardly glanced at Mr. Cale as he strode down the hall toward the earl. She had the impression of a well-dressed, handsome man with a haggard, taut expression.
    â€œDimitri,” he said to the earl. And then he turned to Maia. “Miss Woodmore.” He gave a quick bow as she curtsied, getting a better look at him. He was very handsome, with strong features like a Roman god and tight, curling chestnut hair. He looked just like Michelangelo’s statue of David, except, of course, that she couldn’t accurately compare the statue to this man’s physique.
    Corvindale frowned. “If you’ll excuse us,” he said dismissively to Maia. Then he looked at Cale and gestured down the corridor. “My study.”
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    â€œThere was no time to give the lengthy explanation she would have required—let alone convince Miss Woodmore of its veracity. It was necessary to take matters into my own hands,” Dimitri said moments later in his study.
    He found himself more than a bit annoyed that he felt compelled to explain, even to the man he considered his closest friend. Not to mention the fact that he was beyond furious that Belial’s men had caught him by surprise with the rubies. The other two had been no match for him, and Dimitri had been about to use the stake he had beneath his waistcoat when Belial himself burst into the chamber carrying that ruby necklace.
    He didn’t know how they’d known of his Asthenia for rubies. No one had known except Cale—though he’d die before revealing it. Meg had known, but she was long dead by a stake to the heart. Although Voss had tried valiantly to find out that night in Vienna, he hadn’t succeeded until last night when he’d discovered Dimitri with the necklace draped across his skin.
    Dimitri’s neck still burned where the gems had blazed into his skin, and although he was satisfied that he’d moved quickly enough to hide Mirabella and his ward, things had very nearly gone wrong. A fact which the latter seemed unwilling or unable to comprehend. “Miss Woodmore has been rather vocal in expressing her annoyance with my choice of tactics,” he continued.
    Cale wasn’t completely successful in hiding the amusement in eyes that were nevertheless laced with tension. “She didn’t sound terribly pleased with the event,” he agreed. “I heard quite a bit of your exchange.”
    Damnable vampire hearing. “Miss Woodmore would argue with the devil if he claimed he were from hell,” he said, pouring them each a healthy shot of his best brandy—this time, without blood.
    His head was a bit soft from last night’s overindulgence of blood whiskey between the interlude with Hatshepsut and the attack by Cezar Moldavi’s men. Naturally he’d only interfered to keep Miss Woodmore from waltzing with that court jester because it had been his duty as her guardian, but it had led to an unnecessary detour in that shadowy alcove—not to mention a distraction that had put him off guard. And just as naturally, Dimitri hadn’t given their brief kiss more than a passing thought, but, still, that delay had caused him to be a bit too slow in realizing the vampires had arrived.
    Which was another reason he was in no mood to placate Miss Woodmore.
    He’d rushed through the house, looking for his wards and his sister so as to get them to safety, and had barely done so when Belial’s associates had attacked him. Fortunately their absence made it appear that Dimitri was searching for the girls as well, thereby misleading the vampires before Belial flung the ruby necklace at him.
    â€œThey gained admittance to the party?” Cale asked.
    â€œThere were five of them, all makes, including Belial,” Dimitri