by Trisha Baker
"Alcuin!" She smiled. "You look wonderful!" Then she sobered. "I'm sorry Simon killed you."
"That does not matter. Meghann, there's very little time, so listen carefully and don't interrupt. Don't fight Simon with his own weapons—use the only thing you have on your side."
"What's that?" she asked.
"Love. But promise me you'll be careful."
"Be careful?"
Alcuin looked up sharply—the beach was becoming obscured by a gray mist. "Fly, Meghann!" he ordered, fear in his voice. "Your soul is free right now… Go to Charles."
Meghann concentrated, then found herself in the peaceful world of the Higher Astral She could see the pinkish silver cord that bound her soul to her body. Now all she had to do was visualize her home and her dear friend… call him to her.
With sickening abruptness, she felt herself plummeting. "No!" she screamed into the terrifying mist. Desperately she fought to get herself away from this evil place where she had no power…
The thing was in the mist, closing in on her. She sensed the icy hands reaching out for her, wanting to possess her. I can't let it touch me. If it touches me, it will take over. The malevolent presence was all around her, honing in on its prey. Meghann kept still, scared to even move her hands enough to cast a circle for a protection. She found herself holding her breath but maybe it would hear the violent chattering of her teeth…
"Aufuge a ea," a voice ordered curtly, and she felt the daemon reluctantly back away.
"Let me help you," the same voice told her, and pulled her close.
"Don't let it get me," she cried, her eyes still closed.
"Shhh—I'll never let anything hurt you."
Meghann's eyes flew open. It was Simon Baldevar holding her, comforting her the way he had after a thousand bad dreams.
"Don't you touch me!" she yelled. "I hate you!" She tried to push him away, but he held her tighter and she felt his lips on her hair.
Meghann was too tired and heartsore to struggle much. She was still shaking from the nightmare, plus she had plenty to fear in this world. What was this monster going to do to her now that she was alone with him, with no chance to summon help or escape? Certainly, she couldn't fight him—look what he'd done to Alcuin, the one vampire who should have been able to hurt him. She had a better chance of surviving sunlight than hurting her former master.
"Present master, child." His voice had no hint of reprimand in it. What was he up to now? Why was he comforting her? "Stop that fretting and accept what I give you."
Why was he able to do this to her? Why did the trembling cease and then get replaced by a feeling of well-being simply because he stroked her hair and held her close? Alcuin had warned her not to be alone with him, but she would never have believed he had this much power over her. To think that she could witness all his atrocities, be the recipient of more than a few of them, and then feel so secure when he wanted her to. Well, why not let him hold her? Simon would cuddle or torture her as he damn well pleased—she could gain nothing by pulling away and demanding agony.
"Don't tell me you are finally learning common sense." The words were teasing, but his voice was still pleasant.
"Tell me something." She put her hand against his chest and pressed herself closer to him—remembering her plan from last night.
"What do you wish to know?"
"Are you going to kill me?"
Simon laughed softly. "Are my actions those of someone bent on slaughter, Meghann? While you do tempt me—particularly when you promise devotion to a mortal weakling or weep for that sanctimonious cleric at the same moment you pray for my death—I think you would do well to remember what I told you last night. All I'm going to do is humble you, little one. With vanity such as yours, I consider that adequate repayment for all the unpleasantness between us."
"If that's all you want to do, then why did you nearly behead me last night?"
"As I said, the prospect of killing you is tempting from time to time." Simon tilted her chin up, giving her a sinister grin. "But not nearly as tempting as seeing you accept me as your master once more."
Meghann paled and he laughed again. "No, little one—no pain this time. I've learned physical agony only makes you more stubborn. I can think of better ways to make you mine once more."
Simon dug his hands into her scalp and massaged her hair. If she had been a cat, she would have purred—it felt so relaxing. "You have a strange way of playing the pining suitor, Lord Baldevar. Most men don't attempt to woo women by nearly decapitating them and causing hemorrhaging."
"The injuries you sustained last night were necessary."
She glanced up at him. "Necessary?"
He smiled wickedly. "One, you need to understand who your master is—a lesson you've always had difficulty absorbing. And then there was the matter of your smarmy cleric. It never pays to underestimate one's opponent. He was a worthy foe, but I knew his goodness would be his undoing. He could not concentrate his complete energy on defeating me when he was worried about your fate. He might even have severed my head if he had not been distracted when you started to bleed."
"So you would have let me die to save your own precious skin."
"Of course not—you were in no danger of dying. I knew he'd come to your aid, and then I had my opportunity to strike."
Meghann knew Alcuin did not blame her in any way for his death—otherwise, he would not have come to her, offered a final bit of advice. But what had he meant when he said love was her weapon against Simon? Did he mean what she had thought last night on the beach? She had seen Simon lose control for the only time in their relationship—obviously, she meant something to him. Should she press her advantage and try to regain his trust?
"To regain my trust, you would have to accept me completely." Simon gave her a wry grin—letting her know her thoughts were as clear to him as ever. "And if you did that, you would have no desire to help my enemies or leave me, would you?" He gave her hair a playful tug.
She would have been happier if he raged at her for her thoughts. That soft amusement meant he considered her no threat. Well, if he could read her anyway…
She glared up into his amber eyes—so damn beautiful in spite of the evil soul behind them. "Lord Baldevar, I'll never accept you or your continued cursed existence. I mean to see you dead—as you should have been forty years ago."
He kissed her lips very softly, then placed her head back near his heart. "I wish every menace I ever dealt with were so pretty and spoke in such a honeyed tone."
Damn him! Simon was right about her voice—what was wrong with her? She was practically flirting with him. We'll see if love for me doesn't destroy you, she thought to herself. I'll put a stake in your heart the second you lie vulnerable to me. But she was beginning to wonder whether love (or lust, maybe) would be her ruination.
She was disgusted with herself. She'd like to believe what she was up to was merely clever playacting, but she liked his hands on her. How could she want him to caress her… when those same hands murdered a saint?
"One action has nothing to do with the other. And you may thank your exalted mentor for your fright this evening."
Meghann turned around and glared at him. "My nightmares are not Alcuin's fault."
"That was no nightmare, and you know it. Tell me how often that presence has tried to invade you since my foolish uncle allowed you to peer into my future."
She shivered, remembering the nameless, awful monster that always seemed to plague her dreams now, that made her frightened to travel the astral plane. Even last night, when she went to Jimmy, she felt those icy, grasping hands reach out for her.
Simon pulled her close again. "Don't be afraid, little one. It will obey me; it won't try to hurt you again. You accuse me of all manner of treachery, but it was not I who risked your life and sanity by having you come in contact with beings you have no way of controlling."
"Stop twisting the truth!" she cried. "Alcuin didn't risk anything… He was always
there if anything went wrong. Maybe he simply had faith in my abilities, my ability to take care of myself."
Simon gave her a mocking glance. "So you can take care of yourself, pretty little consort? Tell me who just rescued you from the clutches of something you should never have been near."
Unwilling to concede he was right, she exploded. "I wouldn't need protection if you had ever taught me anything. At least Alcuin taught me to develop my gifts, something you couldn't be bothered to do. I don't want to be rescued like some helpless maiden in a romance novel. You tell me Renee meant nothing to you, but you gave her more than you gave me. You taught her; why not me? Why didn't you ever teach me, give me power like her?"
"Precious child, Renee had no real power—although she certainly thought she did. She was very fortunate you killed her—for I would have destroyed her for daring to invoke what she could not control. Anything I ever taught her carried an inherent risk of being torn apart." Simon stroked her cheek. "Do you think I would be able to gamble with your safety that way? I love you too much to expose you to the beings I have dominion over. Yes, sweet, you do have gifts—and I will help you develop them. But stay away from the Lemegeton—it is not for you."
"I have no desire to go near it," she told him. "We were just trying to find you."
Simon lifted her chin. Then he whispered, "And why did you wish to find me?"
"To destroy you," she told him bluntly.
Simon laughed, twirling her long red hair around his wrist. Then he used her hair to yank her close to him with a vicious turn of his wrist. Meghann refused to cry out.
"You cannot destroy me, Meghann. The pontiff should have known better than to think he had any prayer against me. And he certainly should not have exposed you, novice vampire and novice sorceress, to that world in a pathetic attempt to slay me."
Meghann hated having to ask this fiend anything, but he was the only one with the answer to her question. "Tell me about that… that daemon. Is it part of my future?"
"Our future, pet." Simon gave her an amused glance, then saw the fear in her eyes. "I won't tease you, sweet. Come along—I shall prove to you my little imps cannot bother you anymore." He got off the bed and wrapped himself in the black silk robe she remembered so well. Then he handed her the exquisite ivory gown she'd worn the night he transformed her.
She ran her hand over the satin and lace, remembering that night. Alcuin says it wouldn't matter if I told Simon I wanted to die that night—that he would have transformed me anyway. But I think he was wrong about that. Simon made me a vampire because…
Because we were in love. She looked up when Simon finished that thought.
"No," she told him out loud, her voice thin and weak. "You never loved me, never loved anyone…"
"Meghann." He spoke her name very softly, and knelt in front of her. She was entranced by the way his golden eyes had softened.
Do you believe my eyes ever soften for anyone but you, sweetheart?
Phase don't be nice to me, Meghann thought to herself. Don't look at me like that; don't remind me that there were good times between us, times when I truly thought I was in love with you. . . .
Simon put his hands on her face, drawing her close to him.
Completely ignoring the voice that screamed at her to pull away, Meghann closed her eyes and allowed him to kiss her.
It was sweet, she thought, when he kissed her very gently but very thoroughly. She had forgotten how he could kiss her so lightly she almost didn't feel his touch while still making her feel completely possessed by him…
For one moment, she nearly forgot her bitter feelings toward this creature and entwined her hands in his hair, pulling him closer.
Simon broke off their kiss and told her softly, "Not yet, sweet." He slid the gown over her head and pulled her off the bed. "Come along."
He escorted her out of the room. Eager to forget what she had just done with this devil, Meghann glanced around the dark house. It was elegantly furnished, as Simon's homes always were, but there was a strong feeling of desolation to the place. "Who else is here?"
"No one, pet. No servants, no one but you and me. I did not want anyone to interrupt my time with you."
He escorted her through a large, airy living room and opened a set of French doors that led to a brick veranda. She examined the densely wooded area. "Where are we? Where are we going?"
Simon put a finger to her lips, and gave her his arm. They walked through the woods, the full moon lighting the path. Meghann wrapped the gown around her arm to keep it from getting soiled.
She found her thoughts drifting, fantasizing about what it would be like for him to kiss her again, in this beautiful lonely spot. Jesus Christ! She shook her head to clear away the unwanted daydream. Why did she want the archfiend to embrace her? Why did she have to force herself to remember Jimmy? Why were the past forty years starting to feel like some distant, barely remembered dream? Just how strong was this thing's hold over her? Why, after all this time and all she'd seen, was Simon Baldevar the most alluring man she'd ever known? If Simon caught the drift of her thoughts, then he was behaving with restraint for he said nothing but merely continued walking.
They came upon a small clearing with a stone kiosk. Inside, Meghann saw that the dome roof was glass, allowing the moonlight to illuminate the small pavilion.
But this was no ordinary pavilion—she could feel great power in this place. "This is your temple," she whispered, taking in the grimoires that lined one wall of the circular room, the sigils depicting various Seals of Solomon plastered all about, and the cedarwood table in the center of the room that had a red cloth draped over it.
She touched one of the sigils, or seals. It was circular, carved in wood. Meghann remembered reading somewhere that John Dee advocated the use of "sweet wood" in Enochian magic. This seal had the Star of David on top, with a cloaked hand carved in the center. The hand pointed to a phrase in Hebrew. She was able to decipher enough to understand that it promised protection from all evil. The sigil was marvelously drawn—with great care and diligence.
"Thank you, sweetheart."
She put her hand on the one that attracted her, and felt her fingertip tingle. She licked the finger cautiously. Of course—Simon had glazed it in human blood. She recognized many of the Seals—Alcuin had used them, and shown her their benefit. But some of the sigils—they made her shiver when she looked upon them.
Simon noticed her apprehension and told her, "Some of those sigils do conjure beings you should avoid." Simon picked her up and placed her on the altar. "You were instinctively drawn to the sign I wished to show you. Now focus upon that sigil and listen to my voice."
She concentrated on the outstretched hand, and found her soul drifting from her body. She wasn't worried—she could still feel Simon grounding her, keeping her from wandering away.
Now she was on the Lower Astral. When she tensed up, she heard Simon tell her, "Easy, little one. They won't touch you—just tell me what you see."
Meghann saw a very dark room, and—Jimmy! He needed her help; she ran to embrace him…
She found herself right back in Simon's temple. He glared down at her. "You have nothing to worry about, sweet. My minions shall attack your lover… not you."
"Leave him alone!" she cried.
"Leave untouched a man you promised love and transformation to?"
"It's none of your business what I promised Jimmy… I love him."
She expected him to hit her, to rage at her for saying that, but instead he gave her a sour grin. "You pity him, child, and you enjoy being with a man you can dominate. Did he not accuse you of that same tendency?"
Meghann went white at the insult. "He was upset because he couldn't understand why I wouldn't transform him. But you ought to know that later he said he loved me, and I told him I loved him! I love him… not you!" Simon's lips twisted, but before he could reply, she attacked. "And why the hell do you care if I love you? You never loved me!"
"Wh
at nonsense are you talking now? I loved you enough to transform you."
"Only because I reminded you of Isabelle!"
For a second, she saw complete surprise on his face. Then he gave her a clipped smile. "Perhaps you are growing up, little one. I cannot read your thoughts as well as I used to. All this time I thought it was Renee… I had no idea it was my deceased wife you envied."
Rage choked her so hard she could only splutter for a few seconds, then she collected her thoughts. "I am not jealous of her… I'm sad for her, all the vile things you did to that poor woman. And I'm angry because you put me through the hell of becoming a vampire just because I resemble someone who died four hundred years ago! You loved Isabelle and despised her for spurning you—so you thought you could re-create that twisted relationship with me!"
"How on earth have you convinced yourself that you're not in love with me? Meghann, if you don't love me, then why does it hurt you so to think that I don't love you… that I merely see my dead wife in you?"
That threw her. This vile monster can't be right, she thought. I'm upset because of what happened to Isabelle, not because it turned out I never really mattered to him. But damn him! It has hurt ever since Alcuin first told me. It hurt to think I wasn't so special after all. Do I want him to love me, to see me? She couldn't believe it when she felt tears running down her face.
Simon sat down on the altar and took her into his lap. She fought harder than she ever had, screaming and biting. All he did was hold her tighter.
"It's not true, no, no, no…" She sobbed brokenly.
"Yes, Meghann… my sweet child. Go ahead, scream and cry. Why do you think I couldn't kill you? We love each other."
She shook her head furiously. "No, I don't love you," she contradicted, all thoughts of deluding him forgotten. "I won't love such an evil man… I won't. And you don't love me; I'm nothing to you, nothing but a mirror image of a long-dead woman who hated you…" She couldn't continue; she hadn't been this hysterical since she found out her father had died. This is why he won't kill me… No physical pain could strike such a blow as realizing I'm still in love with him. What is wrong with me? Please, she prayed to anyone who might be listening, don't let it be true… Don't let me love this loathsome monster. Physical attraction—that's understandable. But love? It can't be so.
