My Lady Vampire (11 page)

“You need rest, Kat. Plenty of rest. There is much that lies between us. A link of sorts I am anxious to explore.”

She stared at him in consternation. “Will I dream again?” Her hand involuntarily lifted to her neck.

“Did it hurt?” Adrian couldn’t stop the question, anxiety tightening in bands of ice across his chest.

“Oh no…” She licked her lips. “It was…unbelievable. Incredible. A feeling of such intensity…” She blushed as she sought for words. “’Twas as if the sun rose inside me.”

Adrian swallowed down a bolt of emotion and rested his forehead against hers for a long moment. “Goodnight, Kat.” He reached past her and opened the door, pushing her unresisting body through into the warmth of her room.

With every ounce of strength he possessed, Adrian stepped backwards and closed the door.

Not yet. Not tonight.

But soon…

Chapter Ten

“What the hell is happening, Father?”

Adrian’s outburst poured from his mouth as he whirled back into the room where his father worked behind a mound of papers.

“Shhh.” Sidney shook his head. “Give me a minute.”

“I can’t. What the devil did I do? Did I feed on her in my dreams? Did I go to her room and actually drink her blood while I was raping her? Dear God, Father…” Distracted, Adrian ran his hands through his hair, an expression of horror on his face. “I really am the monster she called me.”

Sidney’s head jerked upwards. “Stop it this minute, Adrian. If you’ll just be quiet and leave off the self-pity, I might have an answer for you.” His words were sharp in an attempt to rouse his son from a burgeoning depression.

Adrian slumped into a chair and gazed morosely into the crackling fire. But he did shut up.

Close to an hour later, Sidney slammed a book closed and stretched. “Well, I think I have it.” He stared at his son, still slouched in the shadows by the fireplace. “But you’re probably not going to like it.”

Adrian straightened. “Let me have it, Father. It cannot be worse than my imaginings this past while.”

“You’re in love with the woman.”

“
What?
” Adrian’s jaw dropped to his chest and his eyes nearly popped from his head. “In
love
with her? I
can’t
be. I’ve met her exactly
twice
for no more than minutes at a time--if you don’t count the dream--so that’s utter balderdash. Nonsense.” He swallowed. “With all due respect, of course, Father.”

Sidney nodded. “All valid points, and ones which would quite correctly apply to a normal human male.” He narrowed his gaze at his son. “
However.
”

Adrian winced. “I’m not a normal human male.”

“Correct.” Sidney leaned back and crossed his hands comfortably over his chest. “What is love, Adrian?”

“Huh?”

“Love. What exactly
is
it? What does it mean to you?”

“Umm…”

Sidney grinned as his son struggled with a simple question. “Take your time.”

Adrian snorted. “Well. Love. I’m probably not the best person to ask, of course, but my understanding is that it’s some kind of warm emotion that makes you want to breed and perpetuate the species.” He twisted his lips. “Something I’m unlikely to experience.”

Sidney tapped his forefingers together to attract Adrian’s wandering attention. “All right. That’s one definition. An emotional one, too, if I may say so.” He shrugged. “We’ll let that pass and move on. Do you know the physiological effects of love?”

“Uhh…” Adrian pondered the question. “Probably an elevated heart rate. Excessive flushing, that sort of thing?” He raised an eyebrow at his father.

“That
sort of thing
you so casually mention includes what scientists believe is an increased production of chemicals within the body. A male and a female, when strong attraction is present, give off an aura that appeals to their lover. An aura which could theoretically cause changes within the skin--possibly even within the blood. I don’t know.” He sighed and riffled through the pages of the tome on his desk.

“Much of this is hearsay, Adrian. But…” He paused, making sure he had his son’s full attention. “If it’s true, then the chemicals you and Mrs. Edgeworth are emitting are interacting. They’re linking in some odd way and enhancing your psychic abilities. It makes sense when you think about it.”

Adrian stilled in his chair, clearly struggling with the concept. “So…” He worked the problem through in his mind. “Because I am strongly--attracted, let’s say--to Mrs. Edgeworth, my body’s chemicals are changing? As are hers? They are responding to each other on some weird level that lets me into her dreams?”

“In essence, yes. You invade her dreams, she invades yours. The reality for you both is desirable, the emotions probably quite passionate.” He hid his grin as Adrian coughed self-consciously.

“The interaction is strong enough to leave marks, a manifestation of what you both wish for, and experience in your dream world. For you, the appearance of having fed. For her…”

“The marks.” Adrian sighed the words.

“Yes.”

Adrian stood up and started pacing, a habit that he’d developed whenever he needed to think something through. Sidney simply watched him.

His black eyes were unfocused as he strode the length of the room, absently avoiding the furniture as he turned his thoughts over and over in his mind. Finally he stopped, laid his hand on the mantelpiece and stared into the flames. “What do I do, Father?”

Sidney stroked his chin. “What do you want to do?”

Adrian half-laughed half-sighed. “I want… I want Kat.”

“You want her in your bed?”

“Yes.”

“You want to feed from her?”

Adrian’s head jerked up. “
God no
. How could I do that?” He looked straight at Sidney, pain in his eyes. “All right.
Yes
. I want to drink her up, swallow her in one draught. Savor her taste and let her fill me with her heat. But I’m…I’m afraid to do that.” He turned his face back to the fire. “I might even kill her. And become the monster I’ve tried to avoid acknowledging, for once and for all.”

Sidney sighed too. “Maybe. Maybe not. I just don’t know. There are too many variables here, Adrian. You can feed from people and not kill them or turn them into others like yourself. You know that.”

Adrian signified his agreement with a curt nod.

“But this new dynamic between you and Mrs. Edgeworth--well, it’s going to confuse things a great deal. I’ve just reached a point where I’m beginning to understand a few of the differences in your blood, and you have to go and find a woman to fall in love with, and muddy the waters once more.” Sidney raised his hands in mute appeal.

Adrian couldn’t hold back the wry chuckle. “It was not my choice, Father, believe me. Loving a woman isn’t something I imagined I could ever do. I’m still not convinced that your explanation is a valid one. Yes, I want her. Yes, she’s made a rather strong intrusion into my dreams and apparently I have done the same to her. But
love?”
He grinned. “It could be plain old lust, you know.”

“It could.” Sidney smiled back. “But I think you and I both know it’s not.” He rose from his chair. “I will work some more on this, Adrian. I’d like to tell you to rest, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea at the moment. If you do sleep, try to stay away from Mrs. Edgeworth in your dreams. At least until I know more.”

Adrian nodded. “Agreed.”

“Oh, and give me a little more of your blood, would you? I’d like to run a comparison between today’s vintage and last month’s.” Sidney’s thoughts scuttled happily into the scientific realms where he felt so much at home.

Adrian’s thoughts were far less cheerful and his face reflected his mood.

Sidney paused. “Adrian. Remember one thing.” He rested his hand on his son’s broad shoulder. “A monster would not worry about killing. A monster would have already drunk his fill of Katherine Edgeworth without regard for her safety. He would only have thought of his own needs--his own satisfaction.”

Adrian was silent, listening to his father’s words.

“And a monster, Adrian, would not deny himself that which he desires most. A monster could not
love
.”

“So you are saying I must not think of myself as a monster?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. You are no monster, Adrian. You are my son.”

Sidney allowed his voice to quaver, refusing to hide the emotion that flooded him every time he looked at Adrian. Truly he had come to regard this young man as his very own, such a closeness had they developed between them.

“I shall ever and always be proud to be called thus, Father.” Adrian’s hand rose to cover Sidney’s, and squeezed it hard. “Monster or no, there are some things that will not change.
That
is one of them.”

- - - -

Katherine’s sleep over the next few days was as refreshing and untroubled as she could have wished, and her recovery continued to please everybody including herself.

She was no longer weak or light headed, could enjoy a meal and began to yearn for the chance to step outside her sick room and stretch her legs.

“Soon, Mrs. Edgeworth, soon.” Mrs. Tooting smiled at her over the teapot after she voiced her umpteenth comment to that effect.

They’d quickly become accustomed to sharing a cup during the day, and Katherine had learned much of the Chesswell family from these friendly sessions amongst the bone china.

“I hope so. I look forward to the chance to step outside and see St. Chesswell’s Chyne first hand.” She smiled into her cup. “I must confess I’ve never seen a chyne.”

Mrs. Tooting snorted. “Not much to see really. Just a bit of a drop, a couple of rocks and some boulders. Rather a fuss made over nothing if you ask me.”

“But this whole house takes its name from there, doesn’t it?”

“Well, yes…but that was hundreds of years ago. I daresay it was a lot more impressive back when our monk was living there.” Refusing to be anything other than casual about the local landmark, Mrs. Tooting shrugged. “Sir Sidney likes to tell the story of the monk, and the locals enjoy hashing it out over a pint or two on a Saturday night, but other than that…”

Katherine had learned the story of the original St. Chesswell, along with as much as she could subtly extract as to the nature of the current residents.

She’d been told of the miraculous return of Adrian Chesswell to his father’s bosom, and also of the dread malady afflicting him, preventing him from enjoying the sunshine.

“One of them terrible French things, Ma’am.” Mrs. Tooting had been quite distressed as she related the tale. “It’s a miracle anybody manages to live in that godforsaken place, if you ask me.”

And “ask me” was exactly what Katherine did. With quietly interested curiosity and her usual flair for friendly conversation, Katherine assembled a reasonably accurate picture of the Chesswells in her mind, thanks to the garrulous Mrs. Tooting and her love for tea.

She even touched on a vague memory. “You know,” she frowned. “I think I remember somebody saying something about red hair.”

Mrs. Tooting chuckled. “That was probably me. Silly story.”

“Oh?”

Always ready for a good gossip, Mrs. Tooting settled her skirts. “Well, legend has it that redheaded women bring the curse of change to St. Chesswell. There’s even one that says a red-haired wench tried to seduce the original saint so long ago.”

She snorted as Katherine’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“I doubt it. And I’m sure the holy man had nothing to do with her. After all, he was a saint, wasn’t he?” Mrs. Tooting nodded firmly.

Katherine would not have bet very much money on that particular assertion, but remained silent while the tale came to a conclusion.

“Long and short of it is that there’s been a history of goings-on at St. Chesswell and people like to find a reason for them. Hair color is as good as any.” She shrugged in her practical way. “It’s all a hum, I reckon, but it makes for a good story. And of course you having red hair…well, there you are.”

Katherine smiled. “Yes. I can claim no credit for my hair color, and so far my stay at St. Chesswell is quite beneficial, at least for me, so I’m guessing we can lay that legend to rest.”

Mrs. Tooting agreed. “That’s what I tell my girls. Listen to the stories but don’t believe ‘em.” She poured more tea. “And heaven knows we have enough local tales hereabouts.”

She related several of them to Katherine’s amusement, and interspersed them with information about the Chesswells themselves. These anecdotes were of particular fascination to her listener who was, of course, extremely careful not to reveal that her interest centered about the history and character of one Mr. Adrian Chesswell.

But center it did, and Katherine spent many of her waking hours trying to come to terms with this man and his effect on her. There had been no one in her life who had even come close to affecting her the way Adrian did. No one she could remember who had quickened her pulse with just a look. No one who had made her thighs ache just with a certain expression in his eyes.

And no one, she confessed to herself in the most private of moments, no one had
ever
aroused that piercing emotion she now recognized as lust. And she’d met him for all of a few hours, no more.

She fell asleep each night with a certain amount of trepidation, wondering if this would be the time he came to her dreams again. She awoke refreshed, trying to decide whether she was relieved or disappointed he’d not been a part of her rest.

Mrs. Tooting had let slip the information that Mr. Adrian had gone exploring into the Chyne for a bit--apparently he was fascinated with the caves that lay within it and spent several days at a time investigating them, thinking nothing of sleeping in them as he needed.

The housekeeper had wrinkled her nose in distaste, but Katherine could understand. The fascination of such places--and right outside one’s own front door--well, it would be a fool who failed to take advantage of such an opportunity.