Ravens Deep (one) (22 page)

             
“I do trust you Darius. I trust you with my life,” I said, and encircled my arms around his neck. My pulse quickened, I felt urgency build within him, as I responded to his tantalizing seduction, and throwing all caution to the wind, I answered him with my own desire.

             
His lean body fitted perfectly with the slenderness of mine and we fell to the bed with our limbs entwined in a passionate embrace. I wanted him desperately and in his arms I felt reckless as all fears and doubts were firmly chased away. His body pressed into mine and as we joined together, my body trembled beneath his touch, and my nerves were electrified under his kisses that bound me tightly in his love.

             
An intense fire burned within him and as I pressed my lips to his throat, waves of ecstasy washed over me before I simply melted in his arms.  His dominant strength beckoned me, unrelenting until I surrendered my mind, body and soul to his dark desire.

             
I was beyond caring what the consequences of our actions might be.  Now, we were part of one another, joined as one. He was my demonic lover and I was his to take possession of, as I succumbed to his every wish and desire.

             
Some time later with our passion spent I lay back in his arms unmoving, the minutes passed and I shifted so that I was able to see his face again. His long eyelashes swept downwards softly touching his cheek. I lightly ran my fingers over the smooth skin of his body marvelling at its perfection and beauty, he was so exquisite and I was enchanted with him all over again. 

             
I felt him move fractionally and I looked up. He was watching me and smiled faintly before leaning up and sliding his hand sensually down my back, his kiss danced lightly over my skin causing my body to tremble once more.  His eyes lingered for a moment on mine before he pulled me firmly back into his arms. 

             
“In all these endless years, I realize it is you that I have been waiting for. Now you are mine, you belong to me and I will never let you go.” He spoke with such vehemence that I was briefly startled, but I closed my eyes, as the undeniable feelings of love flowed from my heart. I fell asleep, secure in his arms.

             
I awoke alone a few hours later. The tousled bed-clothes and the faint scratch marks on my skin were the only evidence of the night before.

Chapter Eighteen - The Hidden Chamber

             
It was a new beginning at Ravens Deep for us. We were aware of the dangerous complications of our relationship, but we did not allow anxieties to enter into this unusual undertaking.  We dealt with the reality and obstacles head on, after all, Darius did have to fulfil his need for blood -- his hunger. But he rarely came to me when his skin was chilled, in the evenings he was always warm. I knew the horror of his existence and no longer questioned the shadows that sometimes surrounded him. 

             
I never asked how or whom and he never spoke of it either. It was a side of his life I didn’t have access to, and I was grateful. Although I tried not to torment myself with the details, initially I had been torn apart by my conflicting emotions, the horror of his existence versus my undying love for him, but he made it so easy for me, I never saw that side of him, and in time I accepted without reservation.

             
My days became shorter and my nights longer.  During those nights we talked in detail about the months apart. Darius told me that he had watched me on several occasions in London, but had been resigned never to reveal himself. He confessed that he had been in Parson Place on the night I delivered the letter and he described how he had watched me waiting patiently in my car. I realised then that my senses must be very in tune with his, to enable me to sense his presence.

             
Looking back, I had sensed him so many occasions, but not trusting my sanity, I had not really believed. But evidence showed that regardless of mortality, destiny had determined that we would find one another and, however unconventional this relationship was, there was no denying the fact that some other force or supernatural energy was at work.

             
Each night he enchanted me, and I delighted him again. We were blissfully happy, observant of our unspoken connection, in which we needed no words, oblivious to the world outside and unconcerned by the morality of our situation.  The only importance was our persevering devotion, and caught up in our emotions of the intimate moments we shared, nothing else mattered. Every day just before dawn, he would leave me alone and return to the chamber where he spent his days.  I found comfort, knowing that he was still at Ravens Deep and only a wall kept us apart during the daylight hours.

             
But we had to be careful, Darius proved he had control, he suppressed the underlying instinct that threatened to destroy my mortal life. That underlying fear was real, the threat was genuine and occasionally this inner demon rose up, and had to be quickly subdued.  But I remained confident in my love and trust that Darius would keep me safe. I suppose we were content the fact that not everything in this world is easily explained or understood, we had chosen to find happiness wherever we could, even if that happiness did not conform to normal convention.

             
After the first few intoxicating nights with Darius, when my mind could not concentrate on a single thing, but him, I slowly became accustomed to this all consuming, passionate love affair and began to take notice of the world around me again.  With Darius in my life this world remained magical, I relegated the dark side of his life to a hidden place in the remotest corner of my mind and concentrated instead on the light.

             
I had asked Darius to show me the hidden chamber where he slept by day.  He led me by candlelight under the ivy curtain and through the wooden door. We walked up the flight of steep wooden stairs and I found myself standing in a small stone-walled room. By the light of the candle I recognized the recess in the wall that looked through to the bedroom beyond.  The chamber was small, only enough room for an old chair, a few feet of empty space and a long polished wooden box that lay on the floor, the coffin where Darius slept by day.

             
The sight of the coffin and the reality of its purpose disturbed me intensely. That one item brought home to me the horror of Darius’s existence and although it was not open, the shock of actually seeing it made me feel entombed myself.

             
Darius did not protest, when I pushed past him and ran down the stairs into the darkness of the night. The cool breeze allowed me to breathe normally again and to regain my composure.

             
“Madeline?” his voice was behind me, I turned to look at him.

             
“I just couldn’t stay in there, I’m sorry.”

             
“I shouldn’t have taken you in there, the reality must be hard to bear,” he said, with some concern.

             
“I wanted to know,” I readily replied. “I’m cold, let’s go into the house.”  In truth it wasn’t the cold breeze that had chilled me.

             
A little later we sat on the sofa, wrapped in a shroud of love.  I was relieved to be out of the chamber and tried to dislodge from my mind the image of the coffin. Instead, I focused on something else.

             
“I have the glass you needed to repair the window, I picked it up today. Can you really fix it?” I said, giving him an enquiring look.

             
“Yes, I will do it now,” he answered, and got up.  I had confessed to him that I broke the window, to my relief he had not been angry.  He merely said:

             
“I really did under-estimate your determination to remain here, didn’t’t I?” 

             
Darius had unlocked the gate and I had brought my car up to the house. He had instructed me to buy the glass needed and now he repaired the window. Darius never failed to surprise me at the things he knew or could do. When questioned, he had simply replied: “When you are as old as I am, you learn to do many things.” It made me feel strange when he made comments like that, for it forced me to acknowledge that he was approximately a hundred and sixty eight years old compared to my twenty two years, and yet he still looked his immortal age of twenty five. I tried not to dwell on that fact often, it was too disturbing.

             
Later that same evening as I sat down on the sofa, he laid his head on my lap and closed his eyes. I played with his hair, coiling it around my fingers and gazed at him with a mixture of sublime adoration and curiosity.  All of a sudden his eyes opened. 

             
“What is troubling you, Madeline?” I stared at him in shock. 

             
“Can you read my mind?” I asked with caution.

             
“Sometimes your thoughts become clear to me, other times they do not. Something disturbs you tonight.” He paused for a moment. “The chamber, is that the cause of your distress?” he asked. 

             
“Maybe,” I hesitated, “but it is more than that. It made me think about your life

before
, you never talk about it.” Darius sat up and turned to lean against the back of the sofa, he turned and looked into my face. “Darius, tell me how it happened. How you became un-dead.”

             
Darius was quiet, but voices in my head were apparent, I couldn’t really hear them I just knew what they said:

             
“Don’t ask me, the memory is too painful!”

             
His eyes gazed into mine, he was struggling with the conflict, the memories and thoughts of long ago were terrorizing him as he began to conjure up the past. It chilled me to witness it. I took his hand in mine and squeezed in reassurance, he looked away from me, perhaps so I might not see how harrowing this was, but despite the obvious agony he began.

Chapter Nineteen - 1860

             
“The year was 1860. I had grown up at Ravens Deep along with my sister Isobelle and my mother Madeline, my father had died when I was a small child.  We had three servants, a cook, my mother’s personal maid and a stable boy.

             
One evening in late spring I was returning home, having been away for two weeks

in
London on business. The journey had taken several days, travelling on horseback and staying at various coaching inns along the way.  On this particular evening I was very tired, and anxious to be home.”  I smiled at Darius.

             
“Do you know, I can almost picture you on a black stallion with your cloak flying in the cold wild winds, racing across the moors as a daring highwayman.”  His smile met my own.

             
“That is one crime I have never been guilty of,” he replied cordially before continuing. “As I approached our property on Exmoor, I took my usual shortcut through the woodlands to the church.  I intended to pay my respects to my father who lay buried there. When he had died, my mother had his remains buried in a specially designed sarcophagus. She had commissioned stonemasons to work it until they satisfied her wishes with the depictions, then she had the sarcophagus positioned in its final resting place.

              My mother without fail would walk to the churchyard at least twice a week.  She would tend the area around the tomb and lay fresh flowers, her favourites being honeysuckle and wild rose.

             
That evening as I approached the church the sun had already set, and it was rapidly getting dark. I remembered thinking that I should take care that my horse did not stumble in the darkness of the woods, and wished I could have ridden a little faster, in order to have arrived whilst there was still enough daylight.

             
I reached the church, but as I dismounted from my horse, my attention was drawn to an image that made my blood run cold.  Lying on the ground outside the open church door was the body of Father Talus, the local priest.

             
I was horrified by his appearance, for I had never seen anybody so deathly white, and the light of a full moon made his appearance even more ghostly.  Of course I did not comprehend the reason for his strange white pallor, it was only later I realized that his body had been entirely drained of blood. I knelt beside him and noticed an old book still clutched in his hands.  At first glance I assumed it to be an old Bible, but as I released it from his grip, horror struck me with grim reality as I realized I held in my hands a Grimoire -- A Book of Shadows.

             
I sat by the body, I was in shock and then as I turned each page I was sickened at the content of this evil book. It had been composed from the writings of various priests and I deduced that it had originated in Italy. Over the centuries notes had been added by its various owners including the final entries, Father Talus’s own handwritten notes.  I did not move for a long time, paralyzed by fear as I read page after page and tried to decipher what all the strange rituals meant.  Then I discovered what Father Talus had done before his life abruptly ended.  I still remember that vice like grip of horror as I read his neat handwriting printed in black ink before my very eyes. But the implications were too terrifying for me to fully understand straight away, so I remained for a time reading by the moonlight on that terrible night.”