Midnight Embrace (10 page)

"I never found a woman I wished to marry when I was mortal, and now…" He shrugged. "What woman would marry a vampire?"

"But… but surely there's been someone in four hundred years."

"Of course. I am a vampire, not a monk."

"You found no one you wanted to marry in all that time?"

"None I dared trust with the truth."

She looked at him, startled by his admission. Startled and afraid. "And yet you've told me." Did he mean to kill her? Was that why he felt comfortable telling her the truth?

"Yes."

She swallowed hard. "Why?" she asked again, though she was afraid to hear the answer. "Why have you told me?"

He shook his head, then took her hands in his. "Perhaps because, after four hundred years, I have found the woman I have been searching for."

His expression was usually as impassive as stone; now it revealed the surprise that was surely etched on her face, as well.

"Me?" she asked, her voice hardly more than a squeak. "You don't mean me?"

He nodded. "Do you deny the attraction you feel for me? The yearning?"

She looked down at her hands, clasped in his. He had only to touch her, and her whole body came to life. She shook her head slowly. She couldn't deny what she felt for him any more than she could stop her heart from beating.

"It is very real, my sweet Analisa. Never doubt it. I could bend your will to mine if I wished, make you feel desire for me, but I have not. What you feel is true. As is what I feel for you."

She stared up at him, mute.

"And now, you must tell me what you want."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you wish to stay here, with me? If you do not wish to remain, Farleigh will take you wherever you wish to go." He squeezed her hands. "You do not have to decide now. The sun is down. I shall take you home."

She had thought he meant to walk her back to the manor. Instead, he picked her up in his arms. A moment later, they were in her room. Dazed, she glanced around. "How did we get here?"

"A bit of vampire magic."

It was all too much. The loss of blood, combined with his confession of what he was, the miraculous way they had arrived in her bedchamber… too much, she thought. The room seemed to tilt and spin out of focus, carrying her down, down, into a whirlpool of oblivion…

She was floating in darkness. Suspended. Separated from the rest of the world by a crimson haze. Being consumed by a pair of blazing blue eyes.

"Drink." His voice was, low, mesmerizing, filled with power and authority.

In her dream, she had no control over her own actions, and she did as she was told.

"Isn't that too much?" Was that Mrs. Thornfield's voice sounding so worried and uncertain? So concerned?

And his voice, assuring the housekeeper that, after four hundred years, he knew what he was doing…

Chapter Eight

She awoke late the next morning, wondering, hoping that her walk in the woods and all that had happened afterward had been a nightmare. And even as she hoped it had been nothing but a dream, she knew, deep in her heart, that it was all too real.

Alesandro de Avallone, Lord of Blackbriar Hall, was a vampire.

He had asked her last night if she wanted to stay with him. She didn't want to leave him, but, knowing what she knew now, did she really want to stay? And if she stayed, what would it mean? Would she be nothing more than a source of… of nourishment, or… Warmth crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Would he expect to share her bed, as well?

A knock at the door scattered her thoughts as Sally arrived with her morning chocolate.

The day had begun.

She drank her cocoa, bathed and dressed, then went downstairs to breakfast. She looked at the food on her plate—poached eggs and ham, scones and marmalade—and thought of Alesandro, who hadn't eaten real food in over four hundred years.

Later, walking through the rose gardens, she thought of him yet again. How awful, to be surrounded by such beauty and unable to enjoy it in the light of day, to spend every waking moment in darkness, to be unable to feel the warmth of the sun on one's face or enjoy a cup of hot tea on a cold winter night. And yet… how wonderful, to never grow old, never know sickness, or have to endure the ravages of disease and death.

All that day, she pondered what it would be like to live as a vampire, to crave the blood of others. She was aware of the passage of time as never before as she waited for dusk, both excited and apprehensive at the thought of seeing him again.

She dressed with care that evening in a gown of pale blue wool, brushed her hair until it gleamed.

She was nervous all through dinner, waiting for him to come to her, but the clock chimed the hours with annoying regularity—eight, nine, ten—and still he did not appear.

She was sitting in the library, a book on ancient vampire lore in her lap, when the clock tolled the hour of midnight. With a sigh, she closed the book and placed it on the table beside her. He wasn't coming. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. She didn't really know anything about him, she admitted. Not where he spent his evenings, not what he did to pass the long hours before dawn when the rest of the countryside lay sleeping. What a lonely life it must be, she thought, to be awake when everyone else was abed.

And that was where she should be. Upstairs, in her bed, but she was too restless to sleep.

Where was he? Why hadn't he come to her?

Unbidden came an image from the book she had read earlier, its lurid photograph burned into her brain—the image of a vampire lying in a coffin surrounded by men carrying knives and torches. And underneath the photograph, the words
There is only one sure way to kill a vampire. Take the head and the heart and burn the body
.

And hard on the heels of that ghastly image came the echo of Alesandro's voice in her mind.
There are many who are searching for me, even now
.

Had his enemies found him? She had a sudden, horrifying image of Alesandro being set upon by the townspeople during the day when he was helpless.

Grabbing her shawl, she wrapped it around her shoulders and went out into the garden. The night was cloudy and cold. A chill wind stirred the leaves on the trees and tugged at the hem of her skirt.

Why had he avoided her? Did he need to satisfy his hunger every night? And if so, had he gone elsewhere?

She was shocked by the rush of jealousy that consumed her at the mere idea of his going to another woman for nourishment.

Where was he!

Hardly realizing what she was doing, she walked to the crypt and placed her hand upon the cold stone marble, wondering why she felt his presence there so strongly when his resting place was in a small stone fortress in the woods.

"You should not be out here, my sweet Analisa. There is the smell of rain in the air."

She didn't move, didn't turn, only closed her eyes and let the sound of his voice move over her, embracing her.

He glided up behind her. Though he said no word, made no sound, she knew he was there, so close that if she leaned back she would be touching him. And that was what she wanted, she thought, to touch him. And be touched in return.

"Analisa. Look at me."

She shook her head, suddenly afraid. Of him. Of her own tumultuous feelings.

"Analisa."

She could not resist the pleading in his voice, any more than she could resist the siren call of her own desires.

She turned to face him and he drew her slowly into his arms, as if he was afraid he might frighten her away if he moved too fast.

"I waited for you all night," she admitted quietly.

"I know."

"You didn't come."

His arms tightened around her. "Analisa, you are so young, and I am so afraid of hurting you. You are so tempting, so fragile. I could crush you with a thought, destroy you with a touch. Why do you not run screaming from my presence?"

"Is that why you came here tonight? To frighten me away?"

"No. I came because I could not stay away from you any longer." He placed his finger beneath her chin, tilted her head back, and kissed her ever so lightly. "I came because I have been lonely for so long. Because, even though you are afraid of what I am, you do not flee from me in terror. Because you let me do this," he murmured, and kissed her again, more deeply this time. Her lips were soft and sweet and warm, so warm. "Ah, Analisa."

She gazed up at him, her heart pounding, her body aching in places coming alive for the first time. "Are these feelings my own? Or am I under your spell?"

"No, my sweet Analisa, it is I who am under your spell."

"What spell is that?"

"Love, my sweet one. Dare I hope you are caught in its web, as well?"

"I don't know." Was it love she felt, this fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach, the happiness that bubbled up from the deepest part of her whenever he was near? "I've never been in love before."

"Nor I. Perhaps we will discover its joys together, if you are not afraid."

"Will you kiss me again?"

"As often as you wish," he murmured, and claimed her lips with his own. She fit into his arms as if she had been made for him, and him alone. He heard the increase in her heartbeat as he drew her closer still, sensed her anxiety, her eagerness. She was so young, so innocent, he was afraid of defiling her with what he was, and even more afraid of yielding to the sweet temptation of her lips, to the hours of forgetfulness to be found within her embrace.

With an effort, he drew back. "Will you stay here with me, Analisa? Can you trust me enough to stay?"

"Yes, Alesandro."

"Will you do whatever I say?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you see when you look at me?"

"A man, my lord. What else?"

"But I am not a man, Analisa, and if I tell you to go to your room and lock the door, you must do so immediately, without question."

"All right. Will you tell me why?"

"There are times when my control is tenuous at best. At those times, it will not be safe for you to be near me. Do you understand?"

"Like last night, you mean?"

"Yes. If I have not fed for several days, or if I have been wounded, the hunger can be overpowering."

"What happened to you last night? You were in pain. Were you injured?"

"There is another vampire roaming in the vicinity…"

"And he hurt you?"

Alesandro nodded. "He has no right to be here. I have held this territory for almost four hundred years…"

"You were fighting with him? Over who has a right to be here?"

"Yes."

"You were badly hurt. Is he stronger than you are?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps. But these are my people. It is my land. He will not have it."

"Why does he stay?"

"He is preying on the people of the village."

"Isn't that what you do?"

"Yes. But he is taking too much, leaving his victims on the brink of death, or killing them outright." His expression grew hard. "It is not my way."

"But you've killed."

He did not deny it. "I do not want to hurt you, Analisa. I have not taken a life in over two hundred and fifty years, except to defend my own."

She leaned back a little in his arms and looked up at him through guileless eyes. "Will I be safe in my room?"

"I hope so."

"You hope so?" she exclaimed softly. "Don't you know?"

"The truth is, my sweet Analisa, that there is no way for you to be truly safe from me, not so long as you dwell within my house."

"But… what about crosses, and… and holy water?"

"Daylight is the only thing that will keep you truly safe. A silver cross will burn me, as will holy water, but they will not keep you safe."

She shivered in his embrace. "Why are you telling me this? You ask me to stay, and then try to scare me away."

"I am afraid for you," he said solemnly. "And afraid for me."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I have never loved anyone before." He ran his knuckles back and forth across her cheek. "I am trusting that I can control the hunger, that I can keep you close and keep you safe. If I am wrong, if I hurt you, it will destroy me as surely as the touch of the sun."

"We must be very careful, then," she said solemnly.

"You are not afraid to stay?"

"I am more afraid of being without you."

He gazed deep into her eyes, charmed by her innocence, captivated by her beauty. Though he knew she could not be his forever, it was enough that she was here now, that, for a short time, he would have the company, the comfort, only a mortal woman could give.

"If you ever wish to leave, you have only to tell Mrs. Thornfield. She will see you safely gone."