Regina Jeffers - Vampire Darcy's Desire

“I do not know, Mr. Darcy,” the servant stammered, afraid for both his position and for the girl he left sitting on the sidewalk bench. “Perhaps Mrs. Darcy took your sister into the bookstore to

Darcy did not respond; he simply strode towards the storefront and burst through the door, fully expecting to find both Elizabeth and Georgiana waiting for him; but no one was to be seen, not even the clerk. “Hello, in the store!” he called at the top of his lungs.

A stirring from the back of the building could be heard, and within a few seconds, the old man appeared. “Yes, Sir. May I be of service, Sir?”

“I am Fitzwilliam Darcy. I believe my wife and sister were both in here minutes ago,” Darcy said impatiently.

“Your sister, Mr. Darcy, left first with your footman there.Your wife followed five minutes later. Mrs. Darcy took her leave at least ten minutes ago, Sir.”

Darcy tapped his cane to his hat in a salute of gratitude, but his mind was not on the conversation. Immediately, he was back on the street, searching the storefronts for the faces he most loved. “Belton, go down the other side as far down as where you found me, and work your way back here.”

“Yes, Sir.”The man took off at a trot, searching every nook and cranny. Darcy would do the same after ordering the carriage driver to wait, in case Elizabeth and Georgiana were close by.

Darcy had taken no more than ten steps along the walkway when he heard her voice. Elizabeth stood in the darkened alleyway, talking loudly to someone even farther back in the shadows. Georgiana must be there also; otherwise, Elizabeth would back away. Of course, someone could be holding a gun on both of them. A silent click of the switch and a twist of the handle, and he slid the sword, a narrow blade edged on both sides, from the cane; and he reached for the small gun he carried in his boot. Easing his body along the wall and line of boxes, Darcy tried to maneuver to where he could see his wife and better assess the situation. From his current angle, all he could view was her skirt tail and the back of her bonnet. He fought to control his breathing and to curb his urge to burst upon the scene. If her assailant had a gun, she would be dead before

“Mahkicw Egroeg!” Elizabeth called out bravely. Darcy wondered at her words.

Then he heard the voice he most dreaded in such a situation. “Gibberish, Mrs. Darcy? You are grasping at straws, my dear.” Then Wickham continued speaking, but Darcy could not make out his words.

Elizabeth paused, seemingly at a loss. “Georgiana!” she called out again, as Darcy edged close enough to see Elizabeth’s profile. She stood with his crucifix dangling from a chain in front of her. “You can see Wickham has no power to defeat the crucifix. You must believe, Georgiana,” Elizabeth urged her. “You must believe in your brother and in me.”

Darcy wondered where she got her courage; Elizabeth Bennet Darcy was facing Wickham’s demonic possession armed with nothing more than a jeweled cross.

Elizabeth took another step forward, and Darcy nearly groaned, knowing the danger she was in. He wished he could see his sister—see the situation in which Georgiana found herself. Georgiana had not spoken, so she might be gagged. “Release my sister at once, Sir!” Elizabeth demanded. Darcy winced, knowing how Wickham detested orders and those who dared to issue them .

Intuitively, Elizabeth became aware of Darcy’s presence. He made no sound nor could she see him, but just the same, she knew he was there. Emboldened by his nearness, she sidestepped farther, hoping to pluck Georgiana from Wickham’s grasp. “I will tell you one last time, Wickham; your plan is madness.You will be found and punished.”

Desperately trying to formulate a plan as she moved, she thought once more of the book, and immediately Elizabeth recognized her error. The foul monster’s name was not really George Wickham; he was Seorais Winchcombe . George Wickham was his Anglicized name. She needed to use the correct one before the spell could work. Again, she visualized his name. She thrust the crucifix forward, extending her arm as far as the chain would go—

“ Ebmochcniw Siaroes! ”The words shot through the darkness, and with a gust of wind, Wickham flew backwards, slamming against the brick wall behind him.

Instantly, Elizabeth grabbed Georgiana and tumbled with the girl to the ground, anticipating that Darcy would step forward from the shadows. Darcy fired the gun, aiming for Wickham’s heart, as the demon slid down the wall.

In triumph, Darcy strode forward, adjusting the sword in his grip as he moved, planning to decapitate the beast lying at his feet. Poised above the limp body of his enemy, he could not have anticipated the attack.

In the shadows of the alley, a figure waited for an opening. Phantomlike, it clung to the side of the building, blending in with the faded wooden slats. Following Wickham’s orders, Amelia Younge had tracked Darcy’s carriage back to the bookstore. She had seen him enter the alley and hide in the darkness created by the haphazard stacking of discarded boxes.

So when Darcy stepped out of his hiding place and fired on Wickham, Mrs. Younge reacted in the only way she knew. She attacked the assassin attempting to kill the man she had followed into hell. Like a wild animal, she charged forward, taking Darcy by surprise, clawing at his back and ripping his coat to shreds with just a few swipes.

Dropping the sword, Darcy hit the ground and rolled, trying to escape the claws and the fangs snapping at him with great force and speed. His face sustained a raking from the tips of her nails, but he fought on. Calling forth his own powers, he pushed against her chest, shoving the woman back far enough that he could extend his arms. Blue light streamed from him, wrapping the vampire with a force she had not expected.

Yet energized by her need to help Wickham, the lamia valiantly led another attack.Again, she pressed Darcy back, her fangs dangerously close to his neck and ear. He struggled to right himself, but

As they wrestled for control, neither Darcy nor Amelia Younge saw Elizabeth move; their struggle was too intense. Elizabeth grabbed the sword discarded during the battle and, with a sweep and a lunge—a perfect envelopment —she came down upon the woman with all her might.“ No…o…o! ” Elizabeth screamed as she thrust the sword through Mrs.Younge’s back, sending it all the way through the woman’s body.

A blood-curdling scream reverberated throughout the small space.With the evil released, the body of Amelia Younge shriveled, becoming an empty shell. The blood drained from her instantly, and her skin began to decay before their eyes.

Darcy scrambled to his feet, scooping the cowering Georgiana into his arms as he moved.“Hurry!” he called to Elizabeth over his shoulder.Without thinking, she hiked up her skirts to follow him, glancing back only long enough to see Wickham lean over Mrs. Younge’s festering body and then disappear in a puff of smoke.

Entering the nearly deserted street, Darcy bolted towards the waiting carriage, unceremoniously dumping Georgiana onto the floor of the coach before shoving Elizabeth in after her. Heaving his own scratched and bruised body onto the seat, he pounded on the roof, and the coach lurched forward, throwing Darcy and Elizabeth into each other’s arms. Righting himself, but not releasing Elizabeth, he called out, “Pick up Belton!” Then he turned his attentions to his wife, without whom, he would, undoubtedly, be dead. His hands slid up and down her arms—her back—searching—trying to assure himself of her safety.“Tell me that you are all right,” he demanded.

“I am,” Elizabeth said, her voice raspy.