Millicent shifted to human, pulling the sheet up over her breasts, making the other woman smirk. “What does he want?”

Selena shrugged her shoulders, taffeta rustling with the movement. “How should I know? And I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”

Millicent glanced from the other woman to Gareth, her forehead creased with puzzlement. “My, my, how you have changed, vamp. What happened to your devoted love for Sir Gareth? You are as fickle as the wind.”

Selena frowned for a moment, turning to stare at him. He realized the glazed look of love in her eyes had faded, and she seemed as bewildered by her change of heart as Gareth had been when she’d professed her love for him.

“I still want him,” snapped the were-bat, a bit sullenly. “I can remember how it felt, but not… never you mind. Just hurry up and get dressed, or I’ll send in the guard to carry you down wearing what you’ve got on.” She gave Millicent one last malicious grin before she spun and left the room.

Gareth pulled on his clothes while Millicent dug through the garments the other woman had left. He dressed as quickly as he managed to disrobe, so he took up the laces of a linen corset and began to tighten them for her.

“What do you make of it?” he murmured.

She let out a breath as he tugged. “I swear she was madly in love with you a few days ago. She still wants you, of course, but how could her feelings have changed so dramatically?”

“I do not know. I’ve had many women fall in love with me, but not so mercurially as all that.”

Millicent put on the ruffled petticoats, and Gareth picked up the gown: a golden velvet trimmed with black lace. He buttoned up the back, and when she turned around, he decided the duke had exquisite taste. The gold fabric brought out the color in her eyes, and the black trim matched her jet hair. She slipped into gold brocade slippers while he searched a mahogany vanity laden with enough bottles of perfume for a thousand overnight guests.

“The duke treats his prisoners quite well.”

“I shudder to think whom he has kept in these rooms—and why. What are you doing?”

Gareth ran his fingers through her hair, separating the strands. “I’m going to fix your hair. Now hold still.” He didn’t need to repeat the command as he started brushing, for her shoulders relaxed and she started to purr.

“I imagine you have quite a bit of experience at this.”

She sounded annoyed.

Gareth smiled. “There are many ways to seduce a woman, my lady.”

“Hmph.”

“However”—he expertly twisted her hair up into a knot, securing it with the hairpins he’d found next to the brush—“you are the first woman I ever seduced by teaching her how to fight.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel special?”

He stuck one final pin in the coiffure to secure it and spun her around. “No, this is.” And Gareth kissed her breath away, until he felt her melt in his arms, until the impulse to drag her back to the bed and ravish her actually made him ache. Verily, he had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Millicent.

Nell’s strident voice penetrated through the door, and Millicent stiffened, pushed him away. “You make me forget the rest of the world exists. I find it extremely annoying, Sir Gareth.” And she spun her golden skirts and left the room.

Gareth raked his hand through his hair and followed.

The ladybird sat on a velvet couch, her brilliant hair a vibrant clash against the burgundy upholstery. Selena stood over her, the black sleeves of her gown seeming as if they would surround the smaller woman and swoop her up at any moment, bringing the thin, wrinkled neck up to those pointed teeth to be feasted upon. Millicent made a low sound in her throat, but this time Gareth moved faster, brushing the were-vamp aside.

He went down to his knee. “Are you well, my lady?”

Nell honored him with a gap-toothed smile. “I ain’t got enough blood in these old veins to slake her thirst. She don’t scare me none.”

The two guards who accompanied Selena had moved forward, but she waved them back. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that, old woman. I imagine the blood of a firebird would be hot enough to make it worth the effort.”

Millicent’s were-form shadowed her for a moment, elongated teeth and sharp claws. “It would be the last thing you ever did, bloodsucker.”

Those glossy black eyes narrowed. “If my master did not forbid it, I would enjoy pitting my beast against yours, alley cat. It is my fondest desire to watch the life fade from your yellow eyes as I slowly suck you dry.”

“Aw, gawd, stow it,” snapped Nell, as if chastening squabbling children, rather than two dread beasts. “I’m hungry.”

Gareth smiled and held out his arm, and the old woman took it, rising to her feet with a grunt and a few groans. She turned to Selena. “Didn’t ye say we was invited to dinner?”

“Not you. Just the two of them.”

Millicent shook her head, tendrils of black falling from her coiffure. “I don’t go anywhere without Nell. I don’t trust that she’ll be here when I return.”

Selena shrugged. “Suit yourself. If you want to annoy His Grace, that’s fine with me. Do it often enough, and perhaps he’ll give me leave to drain you.”

Before they could start a renewed bout of threats, Gareth stepped forward and held out his other arm to Millicent, but before she could react, Selena insinuated herself beneath it. “Don’t look so surprised, Sir Knight. I know you would never hurt me… unless I wanted it that way, of course. Millicent may not know what she’s missing, but I do.”

And the vamp had the temerity to bat her eyelashes at him.

So they walked through the twisted passageways of the back of the castle, until they entered the more sculpted ones of the front, Nell and Selena at his side, Millicent slinking behind them. The guards kept their eyes on her. Gareth hid a grin, glad that they underestimated him. His code of chivalry did not extend to armed men. And Selena made him wish it did not extend to deadly women.

They entered a dining room so lavishly appointed it looked ridiculous. Macabre paintings of ogres feasting on human remains decorated the walls, ornate gilt frames encasing each portrait. Gold etched the walls and ceiling trim, which had been so heavily applied one could barely see the black silk behind it. An enormous fireplace skulked at the end of the room, the mantel and sides sculpted as an open mouth, with twin mirrors mimicking eyes above it. Heavy crystal and candelabra ornamented the table, winking bloody red in the firelight, completely overshadowing the warm light of the candles.

A feast had already been laid out on the black lace linen. An entire pig, with some sort of vegetable in its mouth carved to look like a heart. A steaming peacock with feathers still displayed in an open fan around it. A haunch of beef dripping red juices, bowls of grapes and apples and pears, towers of pasties and sweetmeats, decanters of sparkling wine and brown ale.

Despite the vulgar display, the aroma made Gareth’s mouth water.

Nell’s stomach growled.

“You have joined me at last!” The duke sat at the head of the table, his white gloves cast aside near his plate, his fingers and fleshy lips greasy from the leg of some fowl. He waved the meaty bone at Millicent. “Sit down next to me, my dear. I’m anxious to hear of your adventures over the last few days. Yes, Sir Gareth, please seat yourself at her side. No, dear Nell, sit here on my right, next to Selena. There, now. We are all gathered quite cozily, are we not?” And he dipped his meat into a silver bowl of gravy and continued his gluttony.

Gareth shared a glance with Millicent, shrugged, and began to help himself to the platters of food. He supposed the duke would reveal his purpose for this meeting in due time, and he knew Millicent had to be as hungry as Nell. He indulged for her sake, for she seemed as determined to ignore the food as Selena did.

The were-vamp condescended to sip at her wine when Millicent started to eat, and so for a time, nothing could be heard but the crackle of the fire, the duke’s rather loud eating habits, and the clatter of silver and crystal.

Ghoulston finally sat back and belched. He eyed Millicent’s plate. “Was the meat bloody enough for you, my dear?”

Millicent raised a raven brow at him.

“And the wine? How did you enjoy the vintage? It’s made from a special blend of grapes magically enhanced by a group of nuns who believe their God gave them the power to make it taste like a bit of heaven.”

She set down her silver fork. “What do you want?”

His dark eyes sparkled merrily, and Gareth fought down a trickle of sadness. Evil men, evil doings. He had seen too much of it.

“Why, my dear, I want nothing more than for you to sleep with the good knight and give me my relic. Have you managed to spread your legs for him?”

Millicent flushed, and Gareth gritted his teeth, his hand inching toward his sword. It bothered him that the guards had not taken it from him. Several of the men stood at both entrances of the room, and they did not even flicker a lash at him. Did they truly underestimate him, or did they think his sword such a paltry threat to the duke’s magic?

What sort of instructions had the duke given his minions for this eve?

Gareth placed both his hands back on the table. It would be better for Millicent if she just gave the relic to the duke. Then she and Nell would be free…

Millicent turned her head—ostensibly to take a sip of her wine, but threw Gareth a warning look before turning back to the duke. “If I thought it might make a difference, it might be worth giving up my virginity to give you the relic. But I rather doubt it will. Come, Your Grace, admit the true reason for this meeting. I suspect something rather significant has occurred during our absence.”