The Ravenswynd Series - Boxed Set

by Sharon Ricklin Jones

  “It is, and yes, it is quite a beautiful place. We are situated between Folkestone and Dover in a very remote area that none of the locals ever bother with.” I couldn’t help but think, a good thing for the locals, and noticed Emrys smothering yet another grin.

  “You still do not believe we are different, do you?”

  “I do believe your society is different, since you hire humans to supply you with blood, but I also know the thirst I feel at times and, if not for your generous donors, I imagine I’d be capable of the unthinkable act.” I had been using my most quiet voice.

  “If you simply call it Ambrosia, there will be no need to whisper, sweet wife!”

  Nodding, I added a little more cream to my cup and sipped gingerly. I had now become thirsty for more than just hot coffee. It had been a while since we drank any sweet nectar and talking about it wasn’t helping any.

  Before I could open my mouth to ask the question, Emrys smiled knowingly and said, “Yes.”

  “Really? How did you get it through customs?” I was confused and yet, utterly excited at the thought.

  “I did not bring it along; one of our donors has been staying in our resort. Whenever we travel, we plan ahead and make sure there is an available donor or two to accompany us. We cannot afford to take any chances you see. There is already an abundant supply back in our room. All you had to do was ask.”

  “Well, I’m asking!” I announced. I licked my lips in anticipation and swallowed heavily. My mouth started watering just thinking about it, and I felt tiny pinpricks in my gums. “How often do you usually need to drink, Emrys?”

  “In general, every three days or so, but since I used a lot more energy up the day of your horseback riding tricks, I do feel the need myself.” He smiled then and explained, “You are still a Newling, my dear, and therefore you will notice the craving more often. As I have mentioned before, in time, that will change.”

  He knew I felt guilty again, and I felt extreme relief at hearing this news. It meant I could ask more often without my conscience accusing me of being greedy.

  Emrys shook his head as he picked up on my latest musings. “When I said all you had to do was ask, I did not mean you had to ask. You are free to partake whenever you feel the need. There will always be plenty available to you, my sweet.”

  I allowed a deep sigh to escape, and said, “That’s certainly good to know.” The thought of having to find my own resources was quite daunting.

  “Let us go back to our room now and have a little drink, shall we?” He placed a one hundred dollar bill under the check, set his coffee cup on top to hold it, stood, and reached out his hand for me.

  He started to lead me away from the table, but I hesitated and asked, “Aren’t you going to wait for your change?” I was completely amazed at his extravagance and realized I hadn’t taken notice when he paid our tabs the other few times we had eaten. I certainly wasn’t stingy when it came to tipping; I knew first-hand what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a cheap tipper while working tables through high school, but this was ridiculous. The price couldn’t have been over twenty-five dollars for our breakfast and coffee. We didn’t even have any sides or juice. He had left three times more than the meal plus what the tip should have been.

  “No worries.” Emrys put my hand through his arm and we strolled away together. He remained calm and collected and his demeanor was completely dignified inside and out. But I, on the other hand, was completely flabbergasted, trying desperately to keep my composure steady on the outside. I surely didn’t want to make a scene in public, but once we got outside I didn’t think I could keep my mouth shut.

  After we walked a few steps from the restaurant doors Emrys stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. Before I could say a word he put a gentle finger on my mouth and said, “Trust me, please. I have been around a long, long time. I can tell when someone needs a little extra help now and again, and that is all I shall say about it.” His voice was firm but kind, and, before I could open my mouth, he bent down and kissed me square on the lips. He pulled back and smiled at me. His hair shimmered in the sunlight, his smile genuine, and his eyes told me nothing else mattered to him but my happiness. And that was good enough for me.

  We turned and walked the few blocks back to our resort hand in hand. The sun had popped through the clouds and was warm on my back, the air was fresh and clean, the birds were singing in the nearby trees and I was on my way to consume a sweet, satisfying beverage with the man of my dreams. I had no worries.

  * * *

  The next two days were filled with romantic evenings sitting by the fire, walks on the beach at sunset, and long hot soaks in the whirlpool. Other than a few meals out, we remained close to the chalet enjoying our private, quiet time, lost in long deep conversations and getting to know one another more intimately.

  Rather than fly back to Providence only to pick right back up and leave for England, arrangements were made for us to leave directly from Canada. I was, at first, disturbed at the thought of leaving all my belongings behind, but Emrys assured me that everything would be gathered and sent to our home. And then I became upset at the idea of not saying goodbye to Kathy. I was reassured that everything was taken care of on that end as well.

  Emrys had spoken to Amrita, and I had spoken to Lindy and Fiona. Before they were to catch their flight from Providence, they planned to take a trip to the school, stop by our dorm room and then they planned to go see Fiona’s foster mother. I had no idea what they would say to her, but according to Fiona it really didn’t matter; the woman wouldn’t even notice she was gone, much like our own foster parents who we hadn’t heard from in ages.

  Melinda and I agreed that she would tell Kathy we had found a distant relative in Europe who begged us to come and finish school there, and since this was supposedly our only living relative, we felt not only obligated, but also excited about the opportunity to see more of the world. If things got too out of hand, if there were too many questions, Amrita would step in. As far as the question of why I wasn’t there helping with the packing or saying goodbye in person, their plan was to tell Kathy I came down with a horrible case of the flu that turned into a sinus infection, and I decided to stay at Fiona’s place so that my roommates would not catch anything. We were pretty sure Kathy’s dreadful fear of sickness would be greater than her desire to say goodbye in person. Not to mention the fact that she was by now, most likely, consumed with the plans for her wedding and bridal shower and whatever else occupied the newly engaged.

  Anyone else probably would have been even more upset at the thought of blindly trusting someone with all of their personal belongings, but since Lindy and I basically shared everything, I knew she could be trusted to take care in the packing. All she had to do was get things boxed, and the movers were scheduled to pick everything up and get it shipped within a few days’ time.

  I was amazed at how Emrys made it all sound so simple. A move across the ocean seemed like an enormous undertaking, but in actuality, I didn’t have to do a thing. I was beginning to like the leisure life I’d found myself in. Here I was, sitting next to the most gorgeous being on the planet, trading kisses between sips of sweet Ambrosia, packed and ready for a trip to England where I’d meet my sister and my best friend in less than a day, and I had no anxiety about sickness, crashing in the ocean, getting hijacked, or losing my way in a foreign country. I felt entirely stress-free for the first time in my life. I gazed at Emrys as he sat quietly, and no doubt, reading my mind, most likely enjoying my newfound freedom and ability to relax.

  I smiled gratefully and said, “Thank you.”

  “And I thank you!”

  After placing our glasses down on the table, Emrys pulled me into his arms and held me tight. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this happy and content.

  A knock at the door interrupted our sweet snuggling and kissing. The limousine shuttle had arrived to take us to the airport. A small, but very real concern crept into my min
d as we gathered our bags. Not only was this my first trip to Europe, but it would also be the longest flight I had ever taken. Not that I worried about being bored sitting next to Emrys. That idea was inconceivable. Instead, the edginess I felt welling up seemed to be the inevitable thirst I would develop on the transatlantic flight - even more so from the apparent impossibility of attaining any blood, than the actual need for it. I could not, for the life of me, imagine how Emrys could help me at 36,000 feet above the earth.

  As the driver carried our luggage out to the waiting vehicle, Emrys turned his head to me with a smile and whispered, “No worries.”

  CHAPTER 6

  WELCOME HOME

  I had never flown first class before, and Air Canada had just come out with new executive suites. Not only were these seats much larger than economy, they converted to a lie-flat bed. Each suite had individual video and audio entertainment systems, and a tray table for dining. The way they were laid out, everyone in this section had an aisle seat as well, which was all quite impressive, though I missed sitting as close to Emrys as I would have liked.

  I did manage to get a few hours of sleep during the long flight and, when I awoke, I raised my window shade to the most exquisite sunrise I had ever seen. Soaring above a sea of bubbly clouds that looked like giant puffs of cotton, rich hues of dark blue outlined in lighter blues. The horizon stretched out before me in fire red that faded into thin lines of orange. The pale blue sky just above the deep colors showed the promise of dawn. It was absolutely breathtaking.

  I leaned closer to the window gazing down at the puffy clouds, and, when a small opening appeared, the only thing visible was the dark ocean. I looked back into the eastern sky and watched as the red slowly changed to orange and yellow hues, and finally the sun made its appearance, blindingly bright and beautiful. The puffs of cotton flattened out and it appeared as though we soared above the frozen tundra of the North Pole and peered down on a snow covered, treeless plain. It was easy to imagine seeing things as the clouds began to break apart and formed a myriad of shapes and formations. It reminded me of times Lindy and I had enjoyed lying on the grass gazing up into the summer skies, pointing out forms and faces in the giant white clouds floating by. I missed Lindy. We had rarely spent more than one day apart. There was just one time when I spent a weekend at Fiona’s house because my twin had come down with chicken pox. I missed her then too and thought our foster mother was insane to send me away. I supposed she figured two sick kids would be too hard to handle, but I always thought I should have forced the issue and stayed home. After all, I probably would have taken better care of Lindy anyway. We always looked out for each other. Always together...

  My thoughts were interrupted by a familiar scent - deep, smoky-sweet with a hint of patchouli. I heard a soft velvety voice behind me saying, “I am sure Melinda is in good hands, my dear.” Emrys moved beside me. He must have felt my sadness, because in a moment I was in his arms. He stroked my hair and murmured sweet words into my ear, which caused gooseflesh to rise up on my arms. I took a deep breath, and sighed. I wasn’t sure if it happened because of what he said, or just his very presence, but within a moment’s time, my sadness evaporated and I knew without a doubt that, not only would my sister always be safe with Gavin, but that we’d be together again soon. Emrys pulled back and put his hand on my cheek as he peered deep into my eyes. A small smile appeared on his face and I knew that he was pleased with his uncanny ability to calm my uneasiness so quickly. But I also knew that he sensed my reawakened - and seemingly never-ending state of arousal whenever he touched me. I was beginning to feel like a nymphomaniac and I didn’t know if this was normal; just the effects of being a newlywed, or just being a new Raven.

  “It is most likely a combination of the two.” He whispered his answer just before he kissed me.

  I pulled back a bit, feeling unkempt, disheveled from sleeping, and in need of a toothbrush. I smiled and said, “Emrys, I need to use the restroom.” I kept my voice low knowing there were still sleeping passengers about.

  He raised his head and said, “Old habits die hard.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, frowning.

  “You forget what you are now,” he whispered. “You are an eternal being. It is impossible for you to have, for example, a cavity. You are no longer human. We vampires are different. We do not suffer any of those human ailments. We are not the epitome of death as some have depicted vampires, but rather we are the epitome of life. The vampire body does not succumb to decay in any form or fashion. Brush your teeth if you like, my dear sweet Elizabeth. It will be merely an exercise and nothing more.”

  “So, even if I never brushed my teeth again - no cavities, no morning-mouth?” I could not imagine this and didn’t think I could ever skip my morning routine.

  “Exactly. And as I said, old habits die hard. I do not know any Ravens that have given up their daily hygiene. But if I want to kiss my wife in the morning, I need not worry about offending her.” He raised an eyebrow.

  He always smelled so fantastic, it never occurred to me it was possible to ever be offended by him. I’d always had a keen sense of smell, and ever since transitioning, as hard as it was to believe, I felt it was even stronger. All things considered, it was a good thing we all smelled pleasant.

  “Your personal scent was always sweet to me - even before your transition,” he added, no doubt to ease my mind.

  “That was just my perfume,” I teased. “Though I am sure my scent, as you so strangely put it, was never as delightful as your sweet fragrance.” I meant it with all my heart, whatever he called it - it was very haunting and sensuous.

  “Do not be silly. I love your mixture of lavender, Indian sandalwood and patchouli. How did you ever come up with this concoction?” He looked genuinely interested as he peered into my eyes.

  A part of me was surprised that he even recognized the ingredients in my personal blend, but I explained without question. “Well, one day I had dabbed some patchouli on, and Lindy and I had gone shopping. My sister started spraying all kinds of colognes and perfumes on to test them. She wanted to find something new. Eventually she ran out of places to spray on herself and she splashed my wrist full of lavender before I could stop her, but I found that it complimented the patchouli so well, we decided to mix a batch together on our own. Then on my second batch, I added a touch of Indian sandalwood and found that it gave the mix a richer scent. I wear it more often than she does. Her favorite perfume is still...”

  “Jasmine,” he said giving me a grin. Before I could ask, he answered my surprised look, “I have always been interested in perfumes and oils. Remember I told you I have my own perfumer?”

  I nodded curiously.

  “His name is Vartan and he has been around as long as I can remember. He has formulated many new scents through the years and has caused our small, private business to grow into quite a lucrative success, turning it into our main source of income. Our perfume company makes its home in the south of Italy. I try to spend a few weeks there each year with him, experimenting, learning new mixtures. I have always looked up to Vartan, almost like a father figure. He is a brilliant chemist, and he travels the world over, always in search of new flowers and plants to add to his collection. And to answer your next question, yes, he is a Raven, though he lives near to our factory out of necessity. Very few know the exact location. Believe it or not, the perfume business is one with many great secrets. Some ideas can be worth millions, and we cannot let them fall into the wrong hands.”

  I decided right then and there that I simply had to visit this hidden factory some day in the future. It was a most fascinating way to make a fortune. Emrys smiled at me and kissed my forehead. “Perhaps one day, my sweet.”

  People around us began to stir and noises came louder from the galley; the aroma of strong coffee filled the air and the hum of quiet conversations grew as more passengers awoke. Window shades raised and the interior of the plane grew increasingly brighter
until finally, full-blown morning was upon us.

  I ran a brush through my hair in the unbelievably oversized bathroom. If it wasn’t for the constant dull roar of the engines and the occasional lurch through the air pockets of high altitude, along with the nauseating stench of diesel fuel now and again, I could almost forget we were on a plane. As I stood in front of the mirror completely amazed that my hair still looked great, I marveled at not only the size of the room, but the ambiance as well. The last time I had used an airline restroom, there came a definite feeling of claustrophobia as both elbows nearly touched the walls. I remembered plain metal containers with soap that smelled like medicine, and tissue paper that practically left scars it was so rough. I was sure at least two of those smaller rest rooms would fit into this one. The decor was modern and warm, not at all like the uninspired and sterile stainless steel I recalled. There was even a vase with fresh flowers sitting on the sink top; golden-yellow mums and orange and red lilies, elegant decanters of sweet scented soaps and lotions, and real tissue paper, not the generic razor blade brand. I was impressed, but then again, I was sure the ticket prices were exorbitant as well; someone had to pay for all this extravagance.

  I made my way back to my seat to find Emrys nearly finished with his breakfast.

  “I didn’t realize I spent so long in there.” I glanced sadly at his plate; a half-eaten piece of jellied toast and a few bites of poached egg, and some sort of brilliant red glob in a separate bowl. The bright red color reminded me of my growing thirst. “What on earth is that?” I pointed to the crimson fleshy thing, and I licked my lips. I wasn’t sure what was bugging me more: the fact that he had eaten without me, or my increasing thirstiness.

  “This?” He pointed with his fork, “Oh, this is a Sanguinello. Try a piece.” He stabbed it with his fork and held it up to me.