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Authors: Maggie Shayne

Edge of Twilight (34 page)

BOOK: Edge of Twilight
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11

“I
'm going to let you be the judge of that,” I told her. “Once you've heard my story.”

I bade
Soarse
halt, then slid from the stallion's back, and helped Elisabeta to the ground, as well. We were in a tiny wildflower-strewn clearing, surrounded by trees on three sides, and the river on the fourth. A deer stood nearby, nibbling red clover blossoms, unafraid.

“I was ill as you are now, weak and growing weaker. I was thirty years old, at the time. And one night I was simply taken from my bed by a man as strong as ten men should have been. He took me to his home, a crumbling ruin of a castle, and there he…well, he made me into what he was.”

She stood looking up at me, her hands still resting on my shoulders. “How?”

“I don't want to frighten you with such—”


How
?” she asked again.

Yes. She needed to know, all of it. “He sank his teeth into my neck, right here.” I touched her neck. “It wasn't painful, as you know. But he didn't merely taste me in passion, as I did with you last night. He drank from me
until I was all but drained. And then he made me drink from him. And I did.”

A soft gasp was her only reaction.

“When it was done, I slept as if dead. I thought myself to
be
dead as I drifted into that slumber, for it was far deeper than any sleep I had ever known. And when I woke…I was changed.”

Her face was pale in the darkness. She seemed afraid and yet eager to hear all I had to tell her. “Changed in what ways? Did you
feel
differently? Look differently?”

I nodded. “My senses were heightened to a point where it was nearly unbearable at first. Every touch was magnified a thousand times, and more so with every year I live. Be it pain…or pleasure.”

“Oh.” She averted her eyes.

“My hearing was acute. My eyesight, like an eagle's. My weakness—gone and replaced by a strength such as no human being has ever known. I can run too fast to be seen by mortal eyes. I can leap, to the top of this tree if I wish it. I can listen to the thoughts of humans, and other immortals, as well, and speak to them and…there's so much, 'Beta. So much. I'm immortal, ever young, ever strong.”

She nodded slowly, turning to pace away from me, and then sitting in the grasses and flowers. I moved to sit beside her. “You make it all sound wonderful.”

“It is…or, it could be.”

“Then why had you decided to take your own life last night?”

I looked at her sharply. “You are too insightful for me,” I told her. “But you're correct, there are…drawbacks to living this life. I can never see the sun again. It would burn me to cinders.”

“Then…you
can
die?”

“Everything can die. I think in time, everything does. I can die, from the sunlight, or by fire. An open flame is a dangerous thing to a man like me. A cut, even a minor one, could cause me to bleed to death. And pain for me is…it's excruciating.”

“I see.”

“But worse than all of those things is the loneliness. When you live so long, Elisabeta, everything you know dies before you. Kingdoms come and go. Ways of life, entire civilizations pass out of existence, and yet, you go on.”

“Searching,” she whispered. “For someone to share it with.”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

12

“H
ow old are you,” she whispered.

I lowered my head. “I have lived more than four thousand years.”

She blinked and nodded slowly. “And what about…what about what they say about you. That you have to drink the blood of virgins to survive?”

I met her eyes, smiling slightly. “Living blood. Be it that of virgins or sheep. And I don't need to kill in order to feed, little 'Beta. I tasted of your blood last night—only a sip. And yet you live.”

She lowered her eyes from mine. “It was a sensation I…I never…”

“I know. I felt it, too.” I stroked her golden hair, remembering, my blood heating, my hunger growing.

“Is it always like that?”

“No. At first I didn't know why the sensations of blood sharing were so exaggerated with you. But I think I understand now.”

“Then make me understand.”

I nodded. “Most humans cannot become what I am, Elisabeta. Only a select few. It's something about the blood, something different, and unique. Among my kind
we call those unique ones
The Chosen
. We sense them, are drawn to them inexplicably and irresistibly. There is a powerful attraction between the Undead and The Chosen.”

“On both sides?”

“Yes,” I whispered, my fingertips stroking her cheek.

“And what of my illness? We share that, as well?”

I nodded. “The Chosen always grow weak and sick. They die young unless they are changed. For you, death is near—few months, perhaps weeks away. I don't want to let it take you.”

“I don't know,” she whispered. “I don't know if I can bear to live a life such as you've described to me. I don't know if I can…”

“Let me show you how it can be, between us. Let me show you, Elisabeta. Only then can you decide.”

“I…” She looked up at me, afraid and yet curious, and aching for something she did not understand.

“Let me make love to you, 'Beta.”

“I want that so much. But—you won't change me?”

“I vow it to you. I will not change you.”

“Then yes,
prin_ meu.
Yes.”

I kissed her then. I pressed my mouth to hers and tasted her lips, slid my tongue between them to sample the moistness inside. And she gasped and was stiff and tense.

I lifted my head. “I can make it easier for you,” I told her.

“How?”

“I can take the fear and the inhibitions from your mind by commanding it with my own. Would you like that, Elisabeta?”

She blinked in surprise. “To surrender to you? My very mind?”

“Yes. Surrender to me. Your mind. Your body. Your soul.” I nuzzled her neck, her shoulder, and lowered her body into the deep grasses. “Say yes, Elisabeta. Give yourself over, just for a little while. Trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

“Then…” I sat up and left her lying there. I probed into her mind with the power of my own, and took what I had been asking her to give me. “You have no fear of me, Elisabeta. You know I will never harm you. You trust me utterly.”

“Yes,” she whispered, and the fear and hesitation fled from her eyes, from her mind.

13

I
freed the clasp of her cloak, and spread it open, then slowly unlaced the dress she wore down the front. Her breasts strained against the fabric, until I pushed it away, baring them to the night sky, to my eyes, to my touch.

I did not take control of her mind. I wanted her to give herself to me freely. But I did ease the fears and the shyness away. I soothed her, whispering to her innermost soul that she could trust me utterly. And she could, it was nothing less than the truth.

My lips traced a path over her neck and chest, to her breasts, and then I took them, suckled them deeply and hungrily, one and then the other. My lady's hands clasped my head, held me to her, arched her back, and from within her mind I knew the delicious sensations coursing through her. I knew her every thought, her every desire. When she wished my tongue to flick over her stiffening peaks, I complied. And when she wanted the pinch of my teeth, I gave it to her.

And all the while, my own desire grew. I rubbed against her outer thigh, to show her, and in a vain effort to seek release, though it only served to arouse me more. When I lifted her skirts, she began to stiffen up again.

No, my love, I whispered to her inside her mind. No, you aren't afraid. You want this. You know you do. You want my touch. Here …

And with the thoughts, I pressed my hand to her center. She whimpered and moved against me, until I parted her folds and explored within. Heat and wetness greeted me.

I
wanted
more than I had ever wanted before as I probed and plumbed the very depths of her, and then focused all my attention on the center of her desire, the tiny kernel of flesh that set off a thousand sensations when I pressed and squeezed and rolled it.

Her cries grew louder, unabashedly animalistic while my hand worked her center, and my mouth, her breasts. I grew rougher, hungrier, and she seemed to enjoy it all the more.

Impatient now, the bloodlust raging in me, I opened the dress down the front, and parted it so that I could see all of her. Utterly naked, exposed to me. In a flash her hands flew to cover her body.

I sat up over her, staring down. “No, Elisabeta. You are mine, body and soul. You want to give yourself over to my every desire. Don't you?”

“Yes.”

“Then say it.”

“I am yours,” she moaned. “And
you
are
mine
, my prince.”

I stripped away my garments in a frenzy of desire, and then I lay atop her, my hands pressing her thighs apart as I lowered myself to her center, and without hesitation, slid inside.

She gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders and her thighs going taut.

“Open to me,” I whispered.

And she did; she opened wide and I sank myself inside her to the very depths of her, like burying myself in a sweet haven from which I never wished to emerge. I pulled back and drove again as she moaned in sensation.

With my hand I tipped her head to one side, and pushed the golden hair away from the skin of her neck, baring it, and watching the tiny pulse beat just beneath the flesh as I took her body and lowered my head to take her blood, as well.

14

I
sank my teeth into her throat and she screamed and I knew it wasn't in pain, but in the most exquisite pleasure she had ever known.

The orgasm rocked her body as I fed, and it was echoed in my own until I forced myself to release her neck, to ease my body down beside hers. I held her gently in my arms until the waves of pleasure subsided. It was, I knew, beyond ordinary release. Beyond even, preternatural sensation. Beyond anything I had ever known, and certainly far beyond anything she had ever imagined.

Breathless, she whispered, “I never knew it was…it would be like…”

“It's not. Or not with anyone else, 'Beta. It never has been.”

She looked up, surprised. “Really?”

“I'm as stunned by it as you are,” I told her. “Though, perhaps, not surprised. I've been told that sharing blood with one of The Chosen can be overpowering.”

She snuggled closer into my arms. “It was. And wonderful. But—”

“But?” I felt the cold finger of panic touch my heart. To me, in my mind, that act of lovemaking, of blood
sharing, had bound this woman to me. I thought I had claimed her as my own, and she had claimed me as hers. It hadn't occurred to me that she might feel differently. “You still have doubts?”

“I…” She seemed to search for words. “Making love to you is heaven. Beyond heaven. But it tells me nothing of living as…as you must live. Nothing of being…what you are.”

I lowered my head, my heart sinking. “I thought it would be enough.”

Her palm cupped my face. “It may very well be, my prince. My love. But I'm not yet at death's door. Can you not give me time to know more? After all, it's more than the decision of a lifetime. It's a decision for
all
time.”

“What can you learn in time that you don't already know?”

“I could be with you. Live with you. As you do.” I was impatient, angry, perhaps, but unsure why. I suppose I wanted her unabashed acceptance, rather than something so noncommittal.

“My love,” she said softly. “You told me that once I knew your secrets, I would be bound to you for all my days. Be they many or be they few. I have no desire to alter that decree. I wish to be with you, from this day forward. That I know. My only uncertainty lies not with you, but with myself. I need to decide whether my days with you will be those of my mortal lifetime—or the endless days of eternity. And for that I need more time.” She brushed her lips over mine. “Do you understand my feelings, love?”

I swallowed. “I do, but I don't like the notion of waiting. Anything could happen, 'Beta. As long as you remain mortal, you cling to the fragile lifetime of a mortal. The smallest accident or illness could take you from me before
I could do a thing to prevent it. By the Gods, woman, your family perished of the plague.”

“But I did not. It was weeks ago—and I'm not ill. Not with the plague, at least.”

I sighed, pulling her tightly into my arms. “I don't think I can let you go, 'Beta.”

“Give me a few days, my love. Enough to become used to this idea. Enough to…to adjust, to understand and accept. Please?”

I stared at her for a long moment, at the genuine feeling in her eyes. And at last I said, “Yes. I will give you the time you ask for, if you will give me something in return.”

“Anything,” she whispered, and blushing added, “though I believe I've already given you all that I have of value.”

“What you've given me is priceless. What I ask is even more so. Give me your hand, Elisabeta. Be my bride. Marry me. Tonight.”

15

“M
arry you? T-tonight?” Her wide black eyes seemed endlessly deep with wonder, and a hint of disbelief. “How can you know me enough to make me your wife after an acquaintance of mere hours?”

“Think about it, 'Beta. Had we never met, neither of us would be alive tonight. I had no wish to be alive before I found you—nor did you before that fateful meeting on the cliffs. How is it so difficult, then, to believe that we belong together?”

“Is that what you really believe?”

“It is,” I told her, and it was true. I did believe it. I still do. “We have no one to answer to, 'Beta. We can do this if we wish it. I'm the prince, I do as I please. And you have no family to object.”

She looked up at me, smiling in a watery way that made my throat go tight. “I do believe I love you,
prin_ meu.
Yes. No matter how I end up choosing to spend my time with you, I will marry you.”

I gathered her into my arms, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around and around, and then I lowered her slowly as our lips met, and mated. I do believe that
night was the happiest I had ever known until that point. Certainly there have been none better since.

Together we raced back to the village that spread out in the shadow of the castle on high, and to the home of the priest. We woke him from his sleep, stood in his doorway as he gazed at us, wondering what we were about.

“What's this?” he asked. And then his gaze took focus and his eyes went wide. “Your highness! I had been told you were dead!”

“The castle servants are bumbling fools, I'm afraid. I was laid out in my father's chapel, awaiting your visit—which I'm sure was impending,” I added with a meaningful crook of my brow.

“Naturally, my leige! I had only thought it best to wait for daylight.”

Ah, so the superstitious gossip had instigated fear of me even in a man of God. It didn't matter. I should have been angry, but I was too happy then to let his ignorance cause me any concern.

“I was suffering from little more than a blow to the head, which left me in a deep stupor for a matter of hours. I'm fine now, as you can see.”

“Yes, yes. Do come inside. I've a warm fire, bread and wine if you wish.”

“We have only one wish this night, Father,” I told him, turning to gaze into my beloved's eyes. “To be wed.”

We had followed him inside his small cottage, and he stood now with the plank door still open. “Tonight?”

“Indeed. Within the hour if you can manage it.”

“But…but there's been no betrothal. No reading of the—”

“Nor will there be,” I said, my voice lowering slightly.

The priest stared from me to Elisabeta, and then
he frowned. “This child is still in mourning for her family.”

“We will be wed this very night, unless you wish to find yourself in the castle dungeon before dawn,” I told him.

I felt my 'Beta go stiff beside me, felt her gaze turn to one of disapproval as her hand tightened on my arm.

BOOK: Edge of Twilight
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