Microsoft Word - The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance.doc (4 page)

“I was. They claimed I’d fallen down some stairs. They told  my mother I was dead. The Chevalier de Lorraine told me
 
I
 
was  dead, that I was no more than a phantom  and I would have to  find my own way in the world.”

“He turned you out with nothing?”

“With a few baubles, actually. Things I could sell on the  street, and I did. I made enough to earn a passage back to  England and I went to my father’s estate. The servants, having  heard of my death, were convinced I was a ghost. Rumours of  my haunting the place persist until this day.” He laughed now,  his mood growing lighter. “I took more things to sell so I could  live, and I disappeared.  I didn’t know what to do. I ended  up on  a merchant ship to Barbary, where I fell victim to slave traders.”

I gasped. “Slave traders?”

“My blond hair and pale skin made me a desirable item for  any sheik’s private collection. Fortunately, a Persian doctor  rescued me and brought me to live  with his family.”

“Amazing.”

“Lucky. He knew a few things about my condition.” He  stopped talking and stared out of the window, at the sky growing  darker over the rolling waves.

His back to me, I risked getting close to him again, this time to comfort,  not to seduce. I pressed myself to his back and gave a light squeeze, my hands cupping his shoulders.

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He spun around to face me. “He cured me. The Persian. Or so I thought. He made potions that he encouraged me to drink. I still don’t know what was in all of them, but I’ve tried to duplicate most of them from memory.” He laced fingers with mine. “I aged. I grew up. Cured. Or so I thought. And then  ”–

“Then?”

“He died. He died and his secrets died with him. I realized

that without his medicines, my symptoms were coming back and

I moved on.”

“Where? Back to England?”

“I banged around the Barbary coast for years as a pirate.”

“Of the eye-patch-wearing, peg-leg, shiver-me-timbers  variety?” I crossed my arms over my chest. I imagined him in  tawny leather  breeches, a billowy shirt opened to his navel.  Maybe not such a stretch.

“A pirate.  Of the bloodthirsty, treasure-pillaging variety.”  He nodded, apparently not about to offer more proof than his  word. “A damn good pirate too. They called me Goldbeard. I

was feared around the globe. All right, at least around that  particular coastline. I set my sights on raiding all French ships  that came into range. There was a price on my head for many  years. I eventually got tired of the lifestyle and decided to try  my hand as an explorer.”

“Of course. And what did you explore? Mayan ruins?

Perhaps you discovered the fountain of youth?”

He shrugged. “Who needed it? I explored the colonies.  America. I settled with some displaced Huguenots along the coast of Maine.”

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I cocked a brow. “I suppose you also fought in the

Revolutionary War?”

He shook his head. “I’m not a fan of war. I was off on new

adventures by then. Adventures in botany, actually. Still looking  for the right combination of herbs and roots to make the cure.  It  wasn’t until the sixties that I finally attended med. school.”

“The 1960s?” He nodded. I needed to make sure. “Wow. So

when in all that time did you come across Connor Black?”

His sharp intake of breath indicated his displeasure with the change of subject. No, I hadn’t forgotten Connor, though I could no longer hear him in my mind.

“We’ve crossed paths through the centuries.” He met my  curious gaze, the amber of his eyes as intense as a gold-tinged  flame. “We’re brothers of a fashion.”

“Brothers?” My  hand flew to my neck. I knew he didn’t  mean actual brothers. “The Chevalier de Lorraine? But Connor  doesn’t support your cause?”  An innocent question on the  surface, but I had a feeling it went deeper between Luke and  Connor. Way deeper.

“We’ll never be  in agreement on the ethical responsibilities

of our condition. I’ve given up on Connor Black.”

“And he would rather not see you, either, I’m guessing. So

why were you there that night? Why track him down?”

“He’s spreading the infection. It goes against everything we

believe in here.”

A pain stabbed deep in my chest. “Where’s Connor now?”

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He reached out to stroke the hair back from my face, a tender gesture that felt all too  protective. “You need rest. Your system still hasn’t adjusted.”

“I don’t want to  sleep Luke. I want to know the truth.”

“You will , In time. But trust me on the sleep thing. I know

what you need.”

And suddenly, as if his voice registered a hypnotic

suggestion, I could hardly keep my eyes open.

“Sleep,” I echoed. “Yes, I need sleep.” And before I could  blink, I felt myself sliding to the floor. The last thing I knew was  the feel of Luke’s arms around me as he carried me to my bed.

I woke breathless, buried under the sea, paralysed by the weight of water pummelling, pummelling, even as the waves brought me closer to shore. I could see the light beyond white crests but couldn’t reach it, too far, so far away. I told myself not to breathe, that breathing would be death, but I couldn’t fight the urge. I sucked in, like breathing through a velvet curtain then swallowing said curtain whole. Too thick, it caught in my throat. Connor grabbed the end and pulled.

“Breathe, Miranda. You have to breathe.!”

I sat up choking and grasping at my throat. It was all a

dream. But Connor’s voice still lingered.

“I can’t breathe,” I whispered into the night air, taking great

gulps between words.

30

Now find me
. Connor’s voice stayed with me.
 
Walk towards

the shore
.

Barefoot, still in my cotton nightdress, I walked to the sitting room and slipped out through the patio doors. The night was warm and still, no trace of a breeze. The moon hung low over the water. I headed towards it, wood patio slats giving way to soft sand. Waves caressed the shore with a sound as light as a lover’s touch. When I got closer to the water, I turned back to look at the house.

It was larger than I imagined, too big for one or two people.  An enormous stone mansion that could have come straight out of a film version of
 
Pride and Prejudice
, Mr Darcy’s  Pemberley. He’d said the lab, research facility and dorms were in another building, so why all the space? There was more to  Luke, and this little island retreat, than he’d let on. Suddenly I wondered how he would react to know that I was awake and walking around. Had alarms gone off?  Would he come looking for me? Or was I truly as free to come and go as he’d said I was? I had my doubts.

I forgot the waves and the beauty of the night and returned to the house. My little suite of rooms didn’t show through the trees, but there were lights on in what looked to be the main part of the house, an enormous central room lined with windows looking out to the sea. The room took a clearer shape as I approached. It was a library, rows of books lining shelves around the room, tables and chairs in the centre. I saw Luke on a ladder, his back to me.

As I neared a row of stone steps, something beckoned off to the side, and a voice in my head said:
 
Stay low
 
. Low? I crouched, an instant reaction, and ducked around the wall. A light in another window caught my gaze. I headed for it and found that it was open. I shimmied across the window sill carefully, the coolness of the stone against my thinly clad

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bottom reminding me I probably should have dressed before  heading out for an adventure. My feet touched down on smooth  tile in a room with steel tables, glass tubes, vials, burners and  sinks. It looked to be some sort of lab, probably where Luke did  some of his more private research. I walked out of a side door  and into a dark corridor.
 
Find me
. Connor’s voice became

louder, as if perhaps I’d got close.  I opened a door, some sort of  bedroom with an antique canopied bed at the centre. Heavy  velvet linens draped a matching wine-coloured duvet. No sign of  Connor, but there were pictures everywhere.

A painting of  a lovely woman in a 1970’s -style gown, pink chiffon, graced the wall opposite the bed. There were photos of the same woman under the painting in various poses and outfits, different days, celebrating different black-and-white moments in her life: having a  picnic, walking on the beach, holding a baby and standing under an arch of flowers at what had to be a wedding. She looked a decade older than Luke, who stood beaming at her side, so handsome in black tie.

She looked familiar somehow, but it took me several stilted heartbeats to figure out why. She could have been me. We looked a lot alike. Had this been her room? What about the baby?
 
Find me
. My attention flew to the door opposite the bed.  Connor.

I opened the door. No sign of Connor, but I knew the baby had been a girl, and this had been her room, next to her mother’s. It must have been a lovely child’s room, all pink and lace, but it hadn’t translated well to a young woman’s private domain. A do-not-disturb sign hung from the knob, heavy-metal posters  on the back of the door of Van Halen, The Who,  AC/DC. Maybe some of them were vampires. Who knew?  The fact that Connor didn’t believe in Luke’s mission meant that

there were probably plenty of vampires out there, feeding

among the masses, spreading their disease.

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“Our blessing,” he said, muffles but distinctly out loud.

I looked around. “Where are you?”

“Open the closet. I’m locked in. It opens from the outside.”

I opened it quickly. Connor squinted into the night. “Thank  God, you finally found me. It’s  like a coffin in here. I can hardly move. Lend a hand.”

I helped him climb out of the empty, rectangular darkness.  Much like a coffin, I agreed. Only he’d been left standing up.  “Poor thing. Can you walk?”

He stretched, squatted down on his haunches and  stood back up again. He wore the Stones T-shirt and the same jeans I’d been ready to slide off him on that fateful night in my apartment. The night we’d both been taken. Taken, I realized at last. No one had asked my permission.

“I can walk.” He took my hand. “Come on. We have to

move fast. I know where we can find a boat.”

“A boat? You think we should just leave?”

He turned to me, such a look in his eyes. “I haven’t exactly been kept in luxury accommodation. I have a house in the Keys.  We could make it  by daylight if the weather cooperates.”

“Daylight,” I echoed following after him to the next room. I  tugged him back. “Why don’t we go out a window? We’re on  the ground floor.”

He gestured to the windows. Barred. Apparently, Connor wasn’t the only one to  be held against his will. “Oh. God.  Why?”

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“Later. Come on.” He led me back to the lab where I’d

come in. He helped me through the window first, then followed

me out. “Down the beach. There’s a boathouse.”

He moved faster than I could have imagined, as if he had wings on his feet. What should have been more surprising was that I’d kept pace with him without losing my breath. But I pulled back as we neared the boathouse, a small storage area with a dock at the end of the sand.

“No. He’s there.”

“Luke?” Connor looked at me with concern. “How do you

know?”

“I can feel him.”

“Like you can feel me?” He seemed to be hurt, as if he  hadn’t even considered the possibility. I hadn’t realized it  myself until now.

“The same way.”

He dropped my hand as if scorched. Luke appeared in the

doorway.

“I thought you were going to stay?” He ignored Connor in

favour of questioning me.

“I thought I was free to make up my own mind.” I could  imagine how he must have looked as Goldbeard, terror of the  sea. The firm line of his jaw and the fire in his eyes made me  afraid I’d be forced to walk the plank, and  then glad of it. Better  to face the sharks than to have a go with an angry Goldbeard.

“You are free. I’m asking, not demanding. Please stay.”

“What about Connor?”

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Connor  laughed. “He’s not about to challenge me now that  I’m not locked up. I’m taking a boat and I’m going. Are you staying or coming with me?”

I looked at Luke. Was it true? He wouldn’t challenge  Connor? Fight him? Force him to stay? The men looked at each other as if they would gleefully go at it to the death. Perhaps they had, and more than once. Perhaps that’s why neither one of them made a move now. “I’m not sure.”

“Christ,” Connor swore and looked at the heavens.  “Miranda, look at me. You know we belong together.”  Something in his gaze made me certain he was right. But  something about Luke made me wonder if I should stay. I felt  suddenly torn, oddly connected to both men,