“I didn’t know you were an artist.”
He slipped his arms around her waist, rested his chin upon her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “There are many things you don’t know about me . . . yet.”
She turned her head to the side to look at him again. “I guess so,” she said. “When did you paint this?”
“A long time ago.”
“Well, how long ago?”
“A long time ago,” he replied.
“You sound like a broken record . . . ‘A long time ago’,” she mocked. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“Doesn’t matter. I painted it. It’s hangin’ on the wall.”
“Aren’t you quite the little smartass.”
“An’ your point is?”
“You’re impossible.” She stepped away from him, turning around.
“Aye, an’ you love it.” He stepped closer. His breath caressed her cheek.
“Show me the rest of this place so I don’t get lost.”
“As you wish, my lady. This way.” He took her hand, and led her through the rest of the castle, where she got a good glimpse of a portion of his collection he’d mentioned back in Arizona.
Kylie couldn’t believe some of the items she saw—items that spanned a good six centuries, at least.
Grant drove to a small town near his castle in the province of Connaught, and the fencing duel he and Kylie just had replayed in his mind. He was completely amazed by her skill. She was the first person in a very long time to truly challenge him.
She’d make quite an adversary
.
They strolled down the cobblestone walk toward the market. He watched as Kylie’s eyes wandered, and she finally looked up at him.
“Why is everyone staring at us?”
“Don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe it’s because you’re a beautiful woman, an’ they can’t believe you’re with a man like me.”
She blushed and slapped his arm.
“Also, I haven’t been home for some time, an’ they don’t know who you are.” He cursed himself for lying to her. Grant knew why they stared.
It was the same as when he’d arrived the day before and came into town to buy food for her. They knew who he was. Even more so, they knew
what
he was. He’d heard the rumors and whispers then, and now during their walk. He tried not to let it ruin his mood.
At one time, the townsfolk loved him. Now they feared him. He didn’t understand why they felt that way; he was always generous to them. For two hundred years, he never once harmed a soul living in the town. He feared Cianán or another had . . . and he wasn’t there to protect them during the last four hundred years. Perhaps they thought that he too would take them as sustenance. It helped him understand their fear.
“Over here,” he said, pointing out the marketplace.
They turned and went inside.
As Kylie picked out some produce, he stepped around the corner to grab something else. When he returned, Kylie stared off into the distance once again. Grant placed his hand on her back and she jumped.
“Sorry,” he said, and she glared at him. “I know, make some noise.”
She smiled at him. “It’s okay, that old woman just kind of freaked me out.”
He looked around, but couldn’t see an old woman anywhere. “What’d she say to ye?”
“She told me to leave this place, leave or I will surely . . . something. She didn’t finish it for some reason.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Why would she say that?”
He shrugged. “Come on, let’s pay for this an’ go.”
“You’re just full of answers today, aren’t you?”
He gave her a smug look.
She giggled and looked in the basket. “Do you think this is enough for us?”
He nodded. “I don’t eat much, remember?”
“I still think that’s pretty strange.”
“I’m a strange kind of guy,” he replied.
* * * * *
That evening, Kylie sat by the fire reading. The comment the old woman made wormed its way around her brain and really bothered her. She tried to concentrate on the book she’d pulled from his library, but it wasn’t working. Finally, she closed it and looked at Grant, sprawled out on the floor reading. She crawled out of the chair, onto the floor next to him, and leaned over, massaging his shoulders.
He dropped his head and moaned.
“Hey, Grant?”
“Hmm?”
“What do you think that old woman meant by what she said?”
He closed his book, turned over and caressed her arm. “I wouldn’t worry ‘bout it, Ky. She’s probably just some crazy old bat spoutin’ off strange words.”
“You really think so?”
“Aye,” he replied, but it didn’t comfort her. “C’mere.”
She curled up next to him and laid her head upon his chest. “But what if she wasn’t crazy? It sounded like a warning.”
He stroked her hair. “A warnin’ for what?
Stay on the road. Keep clear o’ the moors.
Ky, you’re more intelligent than that.”
“That’s not funny, Grant.” She sat up and glared. “I’m being serious here.”
He sighed. “All right, I’m sorry, but I think you’re getting’ yourself all worked up over nothin’.”
“Really?”
“Aye. Besides, I’m here to protect ye.”
“You can’t even protect your crotch during a fencing match. How are you going to protect me?”
“Funny.”
He caressed her jaw with the back of his knuckles.
“Feel better now that you’ve cracked a joke at my expense?”
She nodded.
“Good. Now kiss me, woman, before I turn into something else.”
“Oh, and just what would you turn into if I don’t?”
“I don’t know, maybe a vampyre,” he said with a grin.
“That’d be interesting.”
He looked at her, surprised judging from his eyebrows damn near reaching his hairline.
“What?”
“Somethin’ you’d like to tell me?”
“No.” She stared at him, unflinching.
“Sure?”
She nodded.
“Nothin’ like maybe the fact that you’re turned on by vampyres?”
She shook her head again, but a giggle bubbled out.
He grinned widely. “Why, Kylie, I had no idea. Tell me more, love.”
“I’m not telling you a damn thing.”
“I might have to bite ye,” he said and arched his right brow.
“That could get us into trouble.” She leaned down and softly bit his nipple through his shirt.
His expression quickly changed. His body went rigid. “Don’t do this to me.”
“Do what?”
“Nothing,” he said rather shortly.
Assuming he was speaking of the night they drank the wine, she replied in her ‘don’t mess with me’ sarcastic tone, “Hey, you’re the one who didn’t want to do anything that night, not me, so you can just stop right there with that shit.”
“S’cuse me for bein’ a gentleman. I’d assume ye’d have a little more respect for me because of it.” He sat up; her head hit the pillow he’d been resting on.
“Where in the hell did that come from?” She sat up and placed her hand on his arm.
He pulled away.
“Grant?”
“What?”
“What’s going on, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay, don’t worry ‘bout it.”
He wouldn’t look at her. She folded her legs beneath her and sat on her feet. He stood and looked down at her kneeling in front of him. She felt incredibly small, like she’d traveled back in time five hundred years. He stared down at her like she was so far beneath him, her opinion . . . hell, her
life
, didn’t matter.
“I’m goin’ to bed. You may stay up if ye like,” he said, as though giving her permission and amplifying the feeling. He walked away from her.
Kylie bowed her head, listening to his footsteps grow faint.
What did I say?
She wondered about it and sat there a bit longer. A tear made a lonely trail down her cheek.
* * * * *
Grant turned over. His hand automatically searched for her, even though they had yet to share a bed. When it didn’t find her, he opened his eyes slowly. A scream ripped through the castle, jolting him completely from sleep. He leapt out of bed and ran out into the hall. Standing in the corridor, he listened carefully to where the sound came from; the castle was like a labyrinthine opera house when it came to sounds. One had to know exactly what to listen for in order to find its origin. The echoes faded.
Silence.
He adjusted his head, his ears pricked, waiting for another sound. Where was she if she hadn’t joined him in bed? He didn’t blame her. He was an ass earlier. If she was hurt, he’d never forgive himself.
Another scream raced through the halls and he ditched all other thoughts. Grant dashed down the dark hall, around the corner and stopped abruptly in front of a door. He reached for the latch. His hand shook to holy hell. Closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, he calmed himself down.
When Grant opened the door, he found Kylie shivering against the headboard, her eyes opened wide, staring at an empty corner of the room. With his night vision, he saw just fine in the dark. He cautiously walked toward her. That’s when he saw the ghost of his long-dead caretaker. The man was a thief. Grant caught him stealing much more than a few gems. The ghost saw him, and after Grant hissed at it, the caretaker vanished.
Grant stepped closer. Kylie’s head snapped around, and she screamed again.
“Ky, it’s me,” he said, but she didn’t respond. “Ky.” He reached for her arm.
She shrieked. In her scrambling to get away from him, she fell off the bed.
He ran around to see if she was okay. “Kylie?” He picked her up and placed her on the bed again, brushing the hair away from her face. Something wet smeared across his hand. Before he could bring it to his nose, he knew what it was.