Linda Nightingale: Black Swan

Guests spilled from the ballroom into the marble-paved Great Hall. Lisa snagged Paul, a pretty dandy from the West End scene, by his tuxedoed arm. "Who is Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome, and Arrogant?”

Paul spoke with the aristocracy’s natural lisp. “Lucien St. Albans, Chief Councilor of Les Elus, lovingly called the Dark Prince. He’s probably here to make sure no one breaks the rules.”

As they navigated the glittering crowd, Paul explained that Les Elus governed the Vampyre. “The Prime Directive, of course, is never to endanger the life of a Black Swan.” He batted his big baby blues and said, with a fanged smile, that it was always open season on hearts.

“Paul, introduce me to your friends.” The black magic voice stopped the trio.

The young vampire spun on his heel. “Lucien.” A blush lent color to his pale cheeks. “Yes, of course, my pleasure.” He indicated Lisa with a wave of his hand then introduced Carol, who couldn’t take her eyes off the mysterious black-haired sphinx. “Carol Langston.”

Carol Langston dissolved in Lucien’s gaze. “Lucien St. Albans,” she said. “What a lyrical name. I love just saying it.”

Brilliant Carol .

She licked her lips, tasting the name. What had come over her?

Much to her chagrin, she’d never been brazen. Too many times, in fact, almost always, another woman waltzed away with the man she’d fantasized about all evening. Then again, she’d never seen anyone like Lucien St. Albans. Standing a few feet away from him, she felt the electricity the man exuded—and the sensuality. The demon that had possessed her was lust. Lucien was a hunger that already gnawed at her libido and her imagination. She gave her long tresses a wanton toss and smiled up at power incarnate.

Lucien dropped the Glamour of a normal man. His sexy smile showed sharp incisors. A light refraction turned his oblong, catlike pupils red. “Will you join me at dinner then call my name for the remainder of the night?”

Carol felt a blush crawl up her neck. She wasn’t accustomed to such directness. Before you got down to serious business, there was always the mating dance—no different than mortals flirting then shagging. When she shot Lisa a glance, her friend winked. Yes, she liked a man who laid his cards on the table. She itched to run her fingers through his long black hair and…

A soft laugh from the object of her affliction snapped her out of an erotic dream. Raven brows flickered. In an elegant, old-world gesture, he offered her his arm. Smiling at each other, they swept into the opulent dining room for a sit-down meal served by more liveried servants.

“Who are our hosts?” Carol sipped a wonderful Chardonnay.

With a cut-glass goblet of viscous red wine , Lucien indicated a couple seated at the far end of the table. “Tom and Jade Martin from America. California, I believe. Mortals, of course.”

Carol was too awed to take offense at the condescension in his voice. Smiling, she lifted her glass when the Californians toasted them.

As the Dark Prince’s companion, Carol found herself the object of lively scrutiny and, no doubt, envy. While their mortal friends dined, the vampires drank blood let from the veins of other Black Swans and bottled like fine wines. Bottles bearing a gold seal were intoxicants. Those Swans had been pleasantly merry when they made their blood donation. A pretty maid gazed longingly at Lucien as she filled his glass from a gold-sealed bottle. When he tapped his glass to hers, Carol noticed the ruby ring the same shade as the blood he drank. She was no historian but the ring looked like an ancient artifact and somehow as dangerous as its owner.

Though he appeared—was—quite haughty and serious, the Dark Prince proved a witty and charming dinner companion. He never laughed aloud but smiled often—an enchanting smile of perfect white teeth and dusky mauve lips. A couple of times he surprised Carol by taking her hand in a warm grasp and slowly, sensuously tracing her fingers, sending shivers capering over her. From what Lisa could discover and relay to her in the powder room, Lucien rarely attended Swan Songs and never indulged in the offerings.

Carol Langston fell in Black Swan love, very akin to that other four-letter word.

Lucien leaned his elbows on the table, looking at Lisa, who sat next to Carol. “I’ve a friend I’d like for you to meet. He should be here later this evening.”

“Marvelous.” Lisa ruffled a hand through her hair, leaning toward Carol’s magnetic new friend. “What’s he like?”

From two seats away, Lucien had turned on his power, whether consciously or naturally, and totally bedazzled Lisa. Carol understood her friend's bemused expression. She'd been zapped by the electricity every vampire radiated. The Dark Prince generated a higher voltage.

“He’s a fine lad.” Lucien winked at Carol. “Has a great personality.”

Carol flinched inwardly. Translate that to mean he’s so ugly he needs a great personality.

Lisa shot Carol a wary glance. “Oh, I see. Lad, you said?”

“A mere three hundred fifty years old.” Lucien twirled the goblet in his long fingers.

“That remark makes you sound very old,” Lisa said.

“Exactly.” Lucien arched a brow and smiled, his fangs showing. “I exacted a promise from my friend to join me this evening. Sometimes it’s difficult to get him out of the house. You see, he spends a lot of time at the keyboard.”

Carol didn’t need to be a vampire to read her friend’s thoughts. God spare me from a gawky computer geek seeking romance on the worldwide web.

“What does he look like?” Lisa tried to sound casual and failed.

Lucien laughed. “Blonde. Member of the peerage actually.”

Poor Lisa, saddled with a horse-faced aristocrat-slash-computer geek who spoke with a plum in the mouth lisp.

Her friend gazed longingly at the auburn-haired hunk across the table, said hunk flashing a captivating, fanged smile.

Lucien waved a hand, recalling Lisa's wandering attention and dismissing the subject of his friend. “You’ll like him once you get to know him.”

Lisa forced a weak smile. “I'm sure.”

Righty-ho, good as a written guarantee the guy was dead-dog ugly.

The dinner party guests dispersed. The time for music of the night had arrived. Two by two, or three or four, they melted into the shadows. Some would claim the privacy of a bedroom while others sampled dark pleasures in the nooks and crannies of the house or misty gardens. Then again, there would be couplings on display for everyone's entertainment.

Carol’s heart palpitated wildly as she imagined Lucien’s kiss, his black satin hair drifting through her fingers, strong arms pressing her to his fine muscled body. He hadn't touched her, yet she was already aroused.

He rose, extended his hand. “Ladies, shall we take a turn around the house?” He glanced at Lisa, then at his watch. “My friend should arrive shortly.”

They wandered through the double drawing rooms where flirtations were in progress. Lucien didn’t linger long enough for anyone to approach Lisa but led the way down a corridor of family portraits to a small study and closed the door. Two brocade loveseats faced the fire. Amber light mellowed Jacobean paneled walls. He drifted down on one of the sofas, gazing hotly at Carol until she joined him.

Lisa stood by the fire, awaiting her fate. “How will your friend know where to find us?” Easy to read the faint hope that he wouldn’t find them.

“You forget. We're vampires,” Lucien said matter-of-factly as his arm appeared around Carol’s waist, pulling her close.

The man sitting beside her radiated passion. Lucien could warm the cockles of any girl’s heart and other body parts, throbbing to get to know him better.