Vampire Assassin League Bundle Five - Loneliness Read Free Page B

loud enough it drowned out the sound of the rotating blades.
    “It’s not amusing,” Wystan informed them when he could be heard again.
    “Forgive us, de Crecy. I thought it was something serious.”
    “It is serious.”
    “Since this happens every time you get spotted, I would think you’d be used to it. Or, have a game plan in place.”
    “Or maybe, ask for an assist,” Nigel added. “Like from me.”
    “She’s six years old,” Wystan informed them.
    “She’ll grow.”
    “Yes. I know. She has already informed me of that fact,” Wystan replied.
    Both men chuckled again. Wystan set his jaw and waited.
    “You know, you might wish to consider toning down some of the valiant knight routine. It might make you a little less appealing.”
    “I’d like some more immediate help, sir.”
    “Very well, de Crecy. Bail before you land. I’ll alert Vaughn to his new role as hero. What is it now, Nigel?”
    Wystan couldn’t hear what Nigel said. All he heard was Akron’s reply.
    “Not good enough. Lizbeth is not trained. Yes, Wystan de Crecy has always had women trouble. No. I don’t think it will rub off.”
    Wystan ended the call. They called it women trouble? He called it a nuisance, and a big one at that. All he wanted was—
    Damn everything!
    He’d forgotten his hauberk back at Rockcliffe. His shoulders sagged slightly. He supposed he could divert back and fetch it. It was out of the way. His estate was in the borderlands between England and Wales, the area called the Marche . Returning for his chain would cost hours and he’d just lost three of them. He’d planned on drafting the helicopter for the ride to his home. That was out. He’d have to take a car.
    The helicopter started its descent. A glance showed Miss Carlotti asleep beside him. She was even cuter in that mode, he decided. A glance the other direction showed all kinds of lights. He could see a mass of people below. Journalist type people. With cameras. Wystan jerked the handle of the door open and slid out. He refastened the door, and then dropped out of sight. Vaughn hadn’t even noticed.
    He didn’t need the hauberk. He had others. Historians could have a field day with it when the crime unit released it. All he needed was to be home. He could almost feel the solitude. The solid stone slab he rested atop. Sense the aura of quietude away from bothersome females and the complications that ensued from any contact. He wanted his crypt.
    It seemed hours later when he finally closed in on it.
    Wystan stopped for a bit at one side of his gatehouse. Had he any animation, his chest would have swelled with pride. The entire Crecy estate was on display in the silvered moonlight. It was magnificent. Orderly. Structured. Registered in any number of history books. But it was earlier than he’d projected. It didn’t appear to be much past midnight. He supposed he could draft his driver into one more trip...
    And just then, the strangest rumble came through the air, lifting strands of his hair and brushing across his exposed skin.
    Oh. Bother .
    He’d forgotten. He’d agreed to host a Winter Renaissance Faire. An elderly woman had cornered him in his study several months ago. It had been a dark, dreary day. She’d found him awake and restless. She’d asserted her way into his presence. Hounded him. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. And she’d shown way too much leg for his taste. He’d agreed to allow a Faire on the parade grounds of Crecy Castle mainly to get rid of her. He’d been afraid to continue the conversation.
    A knee-high carpet of mist rose from the ground, enveloping his lower legs. It wet the armor of his shin guards and dampened his chausses to mid-thigh. That’s what came of a night with a full moon and higher-than-normal temperatures. Wystan skimmed the ground, skirting the outer wall, sticking to shadows, avoiding detection. He went the long way around, avoiding the parade grounds where they’d set up their tents. The