Years ago, the old man had talked him into disconnecting the utilities and covering the cottage’s interior with protective cloths, but for three days, Simon had been cleaning and pruning in an unexplained frenzy.
And that simple omission was inexcusable.
If the only person worthy of such activity returned, Simon knew quite well to notify the authorities. Immediately.
Still... seeing the cottage fully restored to its former glory sparked his hope anew. He had refused to pack the contents for storage because, to him, that meant letting her go forever. Throughout the years, he had tended to the estate as though she’d return any day. With so few ways to care for her, giving his personal attention to her effects was the least he could do. He owed her that much.
A surge of impatience nipped his ribs. One event, all those years ago, had stolen the reason for his existence. Blowing a forceful breath between his teeth, he clenched his jaw and let his gaze drift to the flagstone. The animals in the clearing and doe waiting beneath the canopy should have been all the proof he needed.
But it’s not enough.
Light footsteps on the path piqued his attention. His heart rate spiked. “It can’t be her!” he whispered beneath his breath. “It has to be David!”
And if it were, he’d rend the life from the menace that had taken her. That man did not deserve the air that filled his lungs.
When an outline formed at the break in the woods near the carriage house, his chest began to heave and every nerve burned with the fire of rage. Adrenaline shot him into action. Blood surged through his body and rang in his ears. Heat moved into his face and grew into an aching pressure that penetrated deep into his jawbone, mounting behind his teeth. His canines descended into his mouth and his lower jaw stretched at the hinge. A low growl rumbled in his throat as his eyes dilated to pick up the faintest traces of light until the entire night wore varying shades of crimson.
Tense seconds passed. The footsteps drew closer. He kept completely still, prepared to lunge. The person was almost within view.
In an instant, his animosity vanished. The night air stuck in his throat as he stifled a gasp. A female figure, draped in lightweight cloth, emerged from the darkness.
“Ah!” Through all of his searching, he had never even known if she was alive.
The wind hooked under her hood and blew it back, and all of his doubts and hopes collided. For a moment, he thought the moonlit ghost of Felicia stood there. But no, it was her. Silver light reflected off her skin. Her face. Her hair.
“You look so much like your mother,” he whispered, shaking his head as tears welled in his eyes. Had David really just let her go? Was this a trap?
The doe and its fawn approached her. “Such a pretty baby, Mama,” he heard her coo as she stroked the fawn.
His heart ached. He wanted to run out and hold her and soothe her and never let go, but he couldn’t, at least not yet. Especially not with fangs and bloodshot eyes. Andrew and Felicia had known his secret, but she had been too young to understand. No one had explained to her about him or his relationship with her father. The fine lines of age and beginnings of gray hair went unnoticed by an eight-year-old child. She saw only a familiar face, not realizing it never changed the way everyone else’s did.
Her parents had barely reached forty when they died, so few would have noticed the years growing on them day to day, yet photographs would have revealed the passage of time differently. Photographs would tell no such tale about him.
He clenched his fist. He should have dealt with David long before the accident. That man was a snake. And, like a snake, he’d slithered into hiding. No amount of digging had ever turned up anything. David’s financial paper trail had gone cold shortly after her birth, when he apparently pulled all his assets and disappeared. It seemed like the girl had vanished forever, too, but now—
She’s really here.
Thunder grumbled across the sky opposite him, trailing bright flashes of light, and the animals ran for cover. The girl sprinted for the cottage and got in just before it began to pour.
As fantastic veins of lightning embraced the sky and thunder shook the ground, he stepped from the canopy’s shelter. Ignoring the berating rain, he watched the door close with narrowed eyes and smiled. Wherever she went, David would follow, and he would be waiting to put an end to it all at long last.
The storm whipped him with all its fury as he approached the living room window. Kneeling in a firelight bath beside the hearth was the daughter of the only “family” he’d had left, but the little girl he’d known was gone. This beautiful young woman stirred feelings hidden deep within him since before his wife’s death.
“You can’t feel this way,” he whispered to himself, slicking his hair back and facing the torrent to calm his racing pulse.
He returned his attention to her just as she glanced at the window. He quickly ducked and flattened himself against the wall. Light footsteps approached. Her shadow draped over him until she turned away, talking herself out of what she’d seen. With a relieved sigh, he leaned his shoulder and head against the cottage wall, and stroked the stones in front of his face. Closing his eyes, he found comfort in the soothing rhythm of her heart. She pulled him from his cold reality into a warm, ethereal place.
When he thought it was safe, he stood and peered through the glass, unable to resist looking at her once more. The flames dancing in the fireplace gave her ivory complexion a luminous glow. Her skin had always been fair like his. Despite all the time she spent outdoors, she never tanned or burned, even under the hottest summer sun.
Golden highlights shimmered as her hair spilled onto the pillow. She shared Felicia’s natural waves and her beauty, although her face was a bit longer, similar to Andrew’s, with soft curves in place of his hard angles. Satiny pink lips with graceful arches and a petite nose complemented eyes he knew to be steel-gray in color.
Lucinda, forgive me.
He blew out a forceful breath. Through all of the waiting and searching, he had lost touch with time’s reality.
Her pulse and breathing slowed, and, as she slept, her essence reached out to him. It was as pure as it was tranquil, and was the same energy that attracted animals to her like a magnet to iron.
“You’re home,” he whispered, his hand tingling as it moved through her invisible energy.
Suddenly her pulse jumped, her aura went cold, and her face twisted in anguish. “Why?” she mumbled. Tears dripped from her eyes as she curled into a ball and hugged the blanket. “Why did you leave me?”
Clutching his chest, he took a step back and swallowed hard. Wiping his face, he stared at the window for a long time, pondering the terrifying possibilities of her life.
III
Not parking at the carriage house meant a long trek through the woods. Thick drops splashed his head and shoulders from the canopy. Drenched and chilled, he ran the rest of the way and blew warmth into his clasped hands.
He paused just shy of his black BMW coupe on the main road, and dug into his pocket. The rigid, saturated denim fought his fingers every bit of the way, but eventually the keys jingled free. Lost in thought, he jabbed the keyless remote and circled to the driver’s door.
“Hello there, Brother,” a velvety voice cooed. A youthful man approached from the rear, lean and tall with lengthy auburn hair held back by a crimson ribbon at his nape. He walked along the opposite side of the car and rounded the hood. Stopping a few feet away, he thrust his hands into his pockets unfazed by the rain soaking his pinstriped suit. A faint glow came off his alabaster skin, but his golden eyes were dark. Almost black.
They stared at each other in silence as the storm subsided, leaving behind only the sounds of distant thunder and droplets splattering from leaves into puddles. They remained that way until the other man wrung out the kerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed at his face.
“Not going to say hello? It’s been a while, you know.” The man cracked a grin that failed to reach his eyes.
“Isn’t it nice to see your brother, Eric?”
“Never. Why are you here?”
Eric crossed his arms and leaned against the car, brow furrowed. He hadn’t seen Jonathan in over a decade.
“It seems as though we have a common interest...” Jonathan’s voice trailed. “She’s returned, yes?”
Eric silenced the warning radiating through his body. Jonathan enjoyed riling him, but he wasn’t about to play along this time.
“Get to the point.” Eric sighed as he whisked water from his eyes.
“Tsk, tsk.” Jonathan wagged his index finger. “Don’t pretend you’re not the slightest bit curious as to why I’m following her.”
His wicked smile grew wider until Eric shifted his annoyed stare skyward. Irritated that his ribbing didn’t have the desired effect, Jonathan’s smile faded.
“I see, then. Mr. Serious, as usual.”
Jonathan took his time, folding the kerchief and tucking it into his breast pocket. “I’m following her,” he paused dramatically and then slowly revealed, “for David.”
The internal alarm registered again. Eric’s face snapped toward Jonathan. He ground his teeth against mounting pressure and took a step forward.
“You’re what?” he growled.
Jonathan laughed. “I knew that’d get a reaction out of you!” He grinned again. “See, that’s not completely accur—”
Eric lunged and threw him onto the BMW’s hood. Jonathan slid beneath him, trying to wriggle away, but Eric held him firm with both hands around his throat.
“Why the hell are you involved with him?” he demanded, his face inches from Jonathan’s.
Jonathan flashed a savage smile. “My, my. Someone’s gotten rather testy over the years.” The smile morphed into a smirk as he brought his hands up between Eric’s arms to break the hold on his throat. As Eric fell forward, Jonathan pushed against his shoulders and reversed their positions with a laugh. “You should know by now you’ll never win. Sometimes I wonder if you like this.”
Drawing in close until his lips skimmed Eric’s ear, Jonathan whispered, “And it’s truly unfortunate that I can’t play right now. But, thanks for the tickle.” He stared into Eric’s eyes with a silent, albeit smug, plea for a truce. Then he slowly released his grip and began backing away.
Eric’s fist smashed into Jonathan’s jaw, breaking the young man’s composure for the first time. Jonathan’s beautiful visage twisted into one befitting a snarling demon with sharp fangs and black eyes edged by swollen red veins. He grabbed Eric’s arms and shoved him against the car. Pinning Eric’s body beneath his, Jonathan leaned in and hissed, “Let me finish!”
“I’m not in the mood for your games!” Eric spat. He kicked off the ground and slid along the hood to pull Jonathan off balance.
As he fell against Eric’s chest, Jonathan tightened his grip and whispered into his brother’s ear, “Just stop, would you?”
He slowly loosened his hold and started to rise when another fist connected with his face. Rubbing his jaw, he eyed Eric.
“Do that again and I say nothing.” Warning flashed in his eyes as he stepped back with his hands up.
“How did you find her? Why are you working with David? What the hell is going on?” Eric demanded, rising from the car.
“This time, it’s out of my hands. You see, the High Council is rather interested in your little, well, prodigy. David is merely a tool.” He dismissed Eric’s other question with a wave of his hand and glanced down in disdain at the wrinkles marring his suit. “Money does so motivate humans. Why do you think he let her come back?”
Eric slumped against the car in a daze. “The High Council?” he asked, without hearing his own voice.
“Who else?” Jonathan straightened his jacket and brushed leaves off his arm. “And I came to tell you she was home, like the good brother I am.”
Eric shot him an angry look.
“What have you told the High Council? Where is David and what’s in this for you? It’s unlike you to work with humans or care about anyone’s wellbeing. Even mine.”
Irritation flickered across Jonathan’s face.
“Finding David won’t help you now. He’s barely in control of the situation anymore.” Golden flecks glimmered fiercely in his eyes as he faked a laugh. “Did I say barely—ha! Why should I help you now? Especially when I don’t care about your wellbeing?”
Jonathan breezed past Eric toward a heavily tinted, black Lexus that had appeared behind his BMW.
Eric glared at his brother’s back. “You want me to know something or you wouldn’t be here. Give me something concrete. One thing. Anything.”
Jonathan paused. “Okay. One thing.” He held up his index finger and tapped it against the air while continuing to walk away.
Jonathan got into the sedan without glancing back or acknowledging the chauffer who opened his door. Eric sighed, shook his head, and tugged his own door open.
As he was about to step inside, Jonathan’s car stopped alongside him and the rear window lowered. A wicked spark lit his golden eyes afire. “You want one thing? Well how about this? David is the least of your worries, Brother.”
Chapter Three: Reunion
I
E ric didn’t sleep. He changed into a dry t-shirt and track pants, retired to his conservatory, and sat in the dark with his feet propped on a rattan ottoman, his thoughts tangled in his head and his hand bobbing to Beethoven’s sonatas. The rain had begun falling again during his drive home and continued to drum against the glass overhead almost an hour later.
Lightning flickered over cornfields in the distance. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and searched for solace in the mournful melody of the Moonlight Sonata’s first movement, “Adagio Sostenuto.” A sense of profound tranquility usually settled over him whenever he listened to the piece, but tonight his mind refused to rest.
Jonathan’s revelation about the High Council weighed heavily against any danger David posed. Why had the elders sent Jonathan after her? The ramifications of their involvement were endless and, for the most part, didn’t bode well. He tried, for many hours, to tease out a reason, absently pressing “back” on the remote every time the whimsical introduction to the second movement, “Allegreto,” began.
When he finally gave in and let the sonata play out in full, he also gave up on the High Council. As fanciful piano strokes overtook his speakers, his mind turned to the one person whose motivation was clear, despite his mysterious role in the High Council’s plan. Jonathan’s transparent comment about money had revealed much about David’s true goal.
As the executor of Andrew and Felicia’s estate, Eric held sole control over their assets. In accordance with family tradition, he had taken his rightful share and placed the rest into a trust for their daughter until she turned eighteen—a birthday that too conveniently coincided with her sudden appearance. David had not just sent her home—he had sent her to see him.
Which meant... she was there to see him.
He jerked up straight, his bare feet slapping loudly against the floor. In his mind, she appeared before him surrounded by a halo of bright, fiery light. Delicate fabric slid from her shoulders, revealing skin that shimmered with a golden glow.
Her dress slid farther. She looked up and smiled, eyes shining like stars, guiding him to her as if he were a lost sailor navigating rough waters.
Warmth enveloped him and ignited his pulse. As her dress slipped off her hips, the halo encased her body, and, in a blinding flash, she was gone.
Back in darkness, he slumped in his seat. The rain had stopped. With a frustrated sigh, he shook his head. Seeing her like that... what was wrong with him?
The clouds eventually cleared away and he watched the sun’s first rays poke over the horizon. How she reacted to him and his truth hardly mattered anymore. Jonathan, by himself, was a formidable opponent. And now the High Council stood behind him, a governing body that only interfered in the Realm of Man when they felt threatened
.
But, even if they saw her as a threat, no vampire could touch her. Her faith made her a protected member of God’s flock—
But not him. Not him. Eric’s inner voice echoed its terrifying realization like a bell rung for the dead.
Later that morning, Eric breezed into the Law Offices of Hawthorne, Ravenscroft, Dugao, and Daley, flashing a smile as he passed the desk of Molly Sims, his secretary.
His office, Molly’s workspace, and the lobby occupied the first floor expanse, while the partners and their secretaries were on the second floor. A wide, spiral staircase led up to the loft, which jutted out over a wall of framed dark mahogany tiles that masked the elevator and storage room doors.
The wood’s rich hue enhanced the maroon tones in the patterned Oriental rugs that served as partitions between Molly’s desk and the leather wingback chairs in the waiting area. Potted palms and thick, wooden blinds filtered sunbeams flowing through the windows, and lamps with green glass shades offered intimate lighting.
A giant painting of the capture of Fort Donelson in 1862 loomed above Molly’s desk. Andrew’s great-great-great-grandfather stood at the forefront, Sharps Carbine rifle in hand. It was how Eric remembered him.
“Good morning,” he said to Molly, stepping into his office and closing the door before she could respond. Blackness encased him the instant the door latched. Despite the arched windows lining the rear wall, not a trace of light seeped past the opaque screens he’d had specially installed.
He flipped the middle switch on the panel by the door. Dim rays beamed down from above and the ceiling fan slowly churned. Adorned with the same rich, wood tones of the lobby, his office didn’t look much different from the rest of the building, except that it was the largest space, spanning the entire width of the first floor with a vaulted ceiling that touched the attic.
Built-in shelves dominated the walls from the floor up. Rolling library ladders on the east and west sides made perusing the thousands of books, many of them aged volumes of old-time law, much easier. Here and there, silken peonies in glazed ceramic pots provided flecks of color between clusters of books—used at Molly’s insistence to "soften" his edge.
The Arrival (Children of the Morning Star Book 1) Page 2
