Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (24 page)

I reached out for his hand as I waited with
baited-breath for his response.

He flinched at my touch,
“Aislin, calling my condition a
challenge
is like saying that
Zachariah is just
temperamental.
You have no idea of how dangerous I can be…if you
stay with me, you are condemning yourself to a life you could not
possibly imagine…and you will always be at risk.” He pinched the
skin between his eyebrows as he gently shook his head, “I should
never have talked to you that day at the port. It was selfish of me
to force myself into your life.”

I could no longer control myself. I slammed
my hand down on the floor and screamed, “What life?” I cried,
“Before you came along I never lived, not one day of my existence
was worthwhile until I met you … and now, you say you want me to
forget you. How can I possibly forget the very person who holds the
other half of my soul?” I wept.

He slowly looked up and his eyes met mine,
“I am so sorry, my love,” a single tear trickled down his cheek as
he cautiously reached for my hand, “I never meant to bring these
complications into your life. Protecting you from Lamont is one
thing…but to have to shield you from my inner-demons is something I
am not sure I am capable of.”

I shook my head in fervent
disagreement, “Greer,
think
. You tasted my blood tonight,
and yes, you fought your inner nature…but your will prevailed.
I
know
you Greer.
You love me too much to ever bring me to harm.”

He gently squeezed my hand, “I would never
deliberately hurt you beloved, but how can I trust myself after
what has transpired?” His eyes dropped down again as the event
replayed itself in his mind.

I placed my other hand on his, as I inched
closer to him, “Even if you do not trust yourself, I trust you.” My
body quaked with sadness, “Please promise me that you will stay
with me,” I pleaded.

He looked surprised by my words, “How can
you still wish to be with me after this?”

I looked down and knew that my words held
more danger in them than I wanted them to.

“If you will not stay with me than I will
beg you to take my life now. I'd rather die than be forced to spend
a lifetime without you,” I said bravely.

I meant the words. I hoped that if this were
his choice, to leave me, he would spare me the pain of being alone
for the rest of my existence. Or worse, spend my life forced into
the arms of another man. In truth, I could think of no other way
which would be so pleasant to die. I wanted to live, but if I had
to go, this would be the most preferable choice.

“Do not speak of such things,” he said softy.
“I will never leave you Aislin. I love you too much. But I do not
know what to do about this.”

“What do you think would help you?” I
inquired.

He rubbed his face with his hands, “My Order
would know what to do, but I have already broken their rules by
being with you. I highly doubt that they would be willing to supply
me with the answers we need.”

“What rules have you broken?”

He took my hands now, as though he was
starting to trust himself again. He picked me up and moved me to
the bed. I did not realize it, but the cold from the floor had
gotten to me, and my hands and feet were as cold as the ice
outside. He pulled the covers over me but did not join me under
them. He sat tentatively on the very edge of the bed.

“When I was changed they gave me specific
rules that I was to follow, and I thought I could do so without any
problems. But I had no idea that I would ever see you again.” He
looked at me and pulled the covers further up, so that my neck was
covered. “One of the rules was to never fall in love with a mortal.
I thought this one would be the easiest of all to follow, but I
never realized that I would find you. So, I cannot go to them for
help.”

I was still shivering under the blankets and
began to move my feet around to get the blood back into them. I
wished there was a fire in the room, but it was very basic
lodging.

“I am not a normal girl though. I am a witch.
Maybe they would find me to be acceptable?” I said hopefully.

“I doubt it. But that does not matter,” he
said, as he rubbed my arms through the blanket. “I promise that I
will not leave you, no matter who approves or disapproves.”

I thought about his words and realized that
there were holes in his promise.

“Do you promise to take me as your wife, no
matter what?” I asked.

“Yes Aislin. I promise,” he leaned in, very
carefully and unhurriedly, and kissed my forehead. His lips were
cold against my skin. I pulled the covers back and bade him to join
me.

“Please, you are cold too. I can feel
it.”

“I am fine,” he said, while pushing the
blankets back around me.

“Please Greer,” I felt saddened by his
rejection, “I just want to be near you.”

He moved closer to me and sat with his back
against the headboard.

“I do not know where the boundaries are
anymore. I cannot tell when you are safe with me and when you are
in danger.” He raised his arm for me to hug him but looked
concerned about doing so.

“I am safe with you Greer. You have to trust
yourself.” I reached up to kiss him, but he pulled away.

“Your lips are too tempting,” he said.

“Will you never kiss me again?” I said, with
far too much desperation in my voice.

Greer saw the pain that I felt and I could
tell that he knew all my thoughts, even the ones I did not wish to
share.

He brought my face within inches of his so
that our eyes were locked upon one another. “I desire you more than
I desire anything else in this world, but I will not risk hurting
you.”

I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth as
though I wanted it to go away. It was the culprit that had taken
away my intimacy with Greer and I hated it for betraying me. He
touched my lip and I let it out from between my teeth. A droplet of
blood stood out on his white finger, and he stared at it as though
it was the apple and he was Adam.

“Aislin, do you trust me?” he asked
intensely.

I nodded in reply. Then he leaned in and
kissed me. His grip tightened for a moment but then softened again.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and relished in the sensation of
his cool lips touching mine. I could feel his internal struggle as
his muscles tightened and softened. Then I realized he was gently
sucking on my lip. I tried to back away and for a moment he
hesitated, but finally he released me.

I did not escape to the far corners of the
room or even to the edge of the bed. I just pulled my lips from his
and looked at him. His eyes were normal, soft, and beautiful.

“I need to learn to handle this,” he said,
his voice almost purring in his melodious accent. “If you are ever
injured, I need to know that I will be able to help you and not
cower away . . . or that I will not attack you.”

He placed a hand at the base of my neck and
pulled my lips toward his again. I touched his soft dark hair and
felt the closeness of our bodies. I did not want this night to
end.

He pulled on my lip a little and I could
taste the blood. He cradled me in his arms, his lips never leaving
mine. He laid me down on the bed, my head resting on the pillow. He
covered us both with the blanket and then continued kissing me.

“You are tempting in many ways, my love,” he
spoke softly.

I clung tightly to him and he kissed my hand
as it brushed passed his lips, “I told you before that I want our
wedding night back,” he whispered in my ear.

“Is this our wedding night then?” I asked
breathlessly.

He broke out into laughter and kissed the tip
of my nose, “No sweet Aislin. This is not our wedding night and I
will not be taking from you what is not yet mine. No matter how
much you tempt me.”

I felt rather innocent and rather stupid all
at the same time. “Oh,” I replied dejectedly.

He continued to hold me close to him and
every once in a while touched my lips to his.

“This is better. I know that I can handle
your blood now.”

“So you feel as though you can kiss me
without being afraid?” I asked hopefully.

He did not answer with words, but kissed me
with centuries’ worth of welled up passion. Then he placed my head
upon his chest, pulled the covers tightly over us both and
whispered for me to sleep.

Within a moment, I was slumbering contently.
Not a single nightmare invaded my peaceful state. I simply
slept.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I awoke in my own bed. Greer was gently
stroking my face with his fingers. The sunlight was dancing off his
face and hair.

“Good morning, my love,” he smiled down at
me.

“Am I dreaming?” I asked.

“No darling, you are awake,” his expression
changed suddenly, as though he heard something that disturbed him.
“I must go. But I will see you downstairs,” he said, and within a
blink of my eyes he had disappeared.

I dressed quickly and went downstairs. Just
as my foot reached the bottom step, Greer knocked on the front
door. My father went to open it and invited Greer inside.

“I apologize that I will not be able to stay
and chat this morning Greer. I just received a message from one of
my reporters of an egregious crime and I must be off.”

“What sort of crime?” my mother asked.

My father struggled to put on his coat as he
tried to answer my mother. “Young Rebecca Schaffer . . . you
remember, the girl who went to Sunday school with Aislin?”

My mother nodded her head, “Yes. I know of
her.”

“Well she and her three younger sisters were
found dead in their bedroom this morning. It is a tragedy. Their
parents found the poor girls, their bodies had been ripped to
shreds,” he said, as he hurriedly shut the door behind him.

I gripped the banister in an attempt to
steady myself. I remembered Rebecca well. She was a kind girl,
although rumors from the towns' people haunted her family. Her
family was Dutch and all blonde, but Rebecca had jet-black hair and
was often accused of being half Lenape. The town children always
tormented her, calling her a “mix breed” and her mother was looked
upon suspiciously. Rebecca had always been friendly to me and each
time she saw me, she always mentioned that our hair was so much
alike in color. Her little sisters were sweet children and were
always well behaved, even when they were out of their parent's
sight.

My grip on the banister tightened and I
became lightheaded. Then, without warning, without invitation, I
could see. I could see everything.

Rebecca was sleeping in her bed with her back
to the window. Her little sisters, Ginny, Mercy, and Sarah, were
all tucked in next to her. Only her dark hair was visible amidst
the piles of white blankets and blonde locks. The small fire that
warmed the room suddenly blew out, but none of the room's
inhabitants stirred. Then the room went so cold that the girls’
breath was visible. The bed shook and Rebecca stirred. She saw
nothing, but let out a scream of terror as she felt a heavy
presence depress the mattress of the bed almost to the floor. The
wooden frame that held the bed together cracked under the weight of
the monster and it pulled the covers off the sleeping children. Her
sisters awoke and cried out. The youngest one, Ginny, barely five
years old, ran for the door but was lifted high into the air by an
invisible force, and thrown against the wall. Her little body lay
motionless on the floor. I could hear Rebecca's constant screams.
Her parents were pounding on the door but it was sealed. No one
could help them. She had laid herself on top of her little siblings
in an attempt to protect them, but it was useless. Then the screams
stopped and the fire relit, the bed was covered in blood and the
door flung open.

In the woods by the house, a man stood in
silence. A smile spread across his wicked face as he reveled in his
triumph. Lamont believed he had found me seeking safe harbor in the
home of an all-blonde family. 'How stupid could she be?' he
thought. Cocking his head to the side, he listened to the cries
coming from Rebecca's parents. Staring at a small house that
appeared dark in coloration, he found great pleasure in the sorrow
and terror that he had brought upon this family. The Grey Man
stretched out his arms and waited for the power to surge through
his body, but it never came. For he had not killed a witch, he was
mistaken and had wasted his time. Anger now filled him and he
thought of killing the rest of the family for good measure, but
listening to their agony seemed to be more entertaining. Lamont
stood in silence for a while and listened to the family until it
bored him, and then he stomped off into the darkness of the forest.
The sun was coming up fast over the horizon and he did not want to
be seen near the home of the slain girls.

I fell and slid down the last steps of the
stairs, “No!” I screamed.

Greer ran over and picked me up, “What
Aislin?”

I could not answer. I was horrorstruck by the
images that flooded my mind. Everything was clear to me. Far too
clear, as though I was standing next to Rebecca as the scene
unfolded.

“They're dead!” I sobbed, “It's all my fault.
He was after me! He wanted me and he killed them instead.”

Greer rocked me back and forth and my mother
held my hands in hers.

“Aislin, this is not your fault. Lamont is an
evil man. You did not do anything wrong,” my mother insisted.

“She had dark hair. He thought she was me
because of her dark hair,” I said through broken breaths.

They both tried to comfort me, but their
attempts were useless. I lay on the floor in the sitting room with
my legs tucked into my chest and refused to speak.