Revenant

by Janet Jones

  To his knowledge, there were only two ways he could sever Talisen's hold on him. She wouldn't survive the first; she wouldn't want to survive the second.

  He smiled down at her with a sting of remorse he could scarcely believe. He, who regretted nothing. “I've always been interested in my namesake. It's a hobby of mine. Would you like to talk about it now?"

  "Are you sure? I don't want to impose."

  "I have no plans this evening."

  Ellory picked up Talisen's two lawn chairs and followed her into her tent. Setting the chairs beside her small table, he sat down while she fetched a briefcase from under her cot, opened it on the table and pulled out a notebook and a pen.

  "I have all of my grandmother's notes,” she said. “She finished our genealogy, except for the chapter about Madeline and the Captain. I have a couple of family stories about how turbulent their marriage was, and of course I know about Madeline from my side of the family. But there seems to be very little information about Benedikt, except that he went missing and his body was never found. The consensus seems to be that he left her."

  Ellory had heard the stories about his “disappearance” for months after his turning. But he and Maddie had been estranged long before that. They were ill-matched from the beginning. Only their honor had held them together. When he'd left his human life behind, Maddie had had his wealth to console her, but not his love.

  His love he'd left with another, unspoken though it was.

  "How about Benedikt's birth date?” Talisen asked. “I only have an approximate date."

  Ellory leaned closer. He didn't miss the soft catch in Talisen's breath. “March 12, 1761."

  Whipping her notebook open, she wrote it down. When she met his gaze, her dark green eyes swallowed him whole. “Can you verify that? What's your source?"

  "One of his logbooks from The Swan. That was his favorite clipper. The prettiest four-masted lady that ever sailed out of New England.” He grinned. “Or so he wrote."

  She looked up with a skeptical half-smile. “Your logbook's for real?"

  "Yes, and as far as I know, it's the only one that survived. He scribbled personal notes in the margins of some of the logbook's pages. On March 2, 1789, he made an entry about turning twenty-eight that day."

  Her skepticism faded to excitement that made her eyes gleam. “That's wonderful. So, he was about thirty-two when he married Madeline. And he disappeared in August the same year."

  "I have a box of Benedikt's stuff, actually. It's not much, but you might like to see it."

  "I would. Very much."

  He didn't know why he'd kept any of it. On one of his few return visits to Camden, he'd found a few of his belongings at an estate sale Madeline's executor arranged to settle her debts after her death. He hadn't found the item he hoped to recover, but it was just as well. He'd rather it be lost forever than end up with Maddie. If there was any mercy in the world, its rightful owner took that cherished relic of his human life to her grave, along with what it had meant to both of them.

  Talisen looked up from her notes. “When would be convenient for me to see Benedikt's things?"

  "Why not tonight?"

  She looked away and pulled her notebook closer, as if for safety.

  Ellory kept his voice low and gentle. “Unless, of course, you have other plans."

  She shook her head. “No, it's just that...."

  "What, Talisen? What's wrong?"

  "My grandmother raised me, so I know how much all of this would have meant to her. All my life, I watched her struggle to find out what happened to Benedikt. I think she'd have given my bronzed baby shoes to see something that actually belonged to him.” Her teeth grated for a moment. “It should be her sitting here talking to you."

  She shoved herself out of her chair and went to the stove to pour some coffee. Ellory watched her shoulders droop, but her voice was clear and even. “She couldn't let it go, even when it stopped being research and turned into souvenir-collecting. It didn't matter how unfounded, conflicting or ridiculous a story was. If it had to do with him, she went after it. She kept hoping to find something to prove his disappearance wasn't his fault. She refused to believe he deserted Madeline."

  "The Rudyards are proud people. Proving Captain Benedikt was a man of honor was your grandmother's way to save face."

  "The way she talked about him, you'd have thought he was our damned guardian angel."

  He could see her shaking now. Her anger filled the tent.

  "How the hell does someone have a freak blow-out in her car and die half a block from her front door?"

  "And the guardian angel wasn't there to save her."

  "I know it's illogical and stupid, but at one time I actually believed he could have saved her somehow, like magic.” She returned to the table, eyes glinting with rage and pain. “That's how real Grandma made him seem to me."

  Ellory let the silence fall between them. Part of him wished he had been there to save her grandmother, to be their hero; part of him wished he could walk away from this woman and never look back. But that would be like signing Talisen's death warrant. When a vampire relinquished his responsibility for the behavior of the humans living in his domain, it was the same as relinquishing his claim on them. They became fair game for the rest of the vampire community.

  As things stood now, Talisen had yet to discover anything about him that made her a security risk to the Enclave, but that wouldn't matter to his neighbors. Humans who dug around in a vampire's past were living on borrowed time. Moving Talisen as close as possible to the summer house would send a message to the Enclave that he had the situation in hand and Talisen was his.

  Not even Dylan would violate a sanctum boundary.

  The inn was the perfect choice. Close enough to keep her safe—and safely his—but not so close that it broke his primary rule of survival: never—ever—bring your prey home.

  "Talisen,” he said, “considering what you're going through right now, I think you need to be somewhere more comfortable. Let me get you a room at the Benedikt."

  "Thank you, but that's not what I need. Grandma and I had brunch there every Sunday.” She added wistfully, “We never spent the night. They never have vacancies."

  "The room is already paid for. I put the Gerards to the trouble of having it ready for me, but I don't need it.” He read the swift refusal in her eyes and added, “Can you think of a better place than the inn to discuss family history?"

  Her gaze softened, and Ellory followed her thoughts as they came and went. She had decided to put aside her defenses. Just like that? Remarkable. Rudyards seldom trusted so easily.

  It had to be the bond they shared that had done it. She surely felt the connection between them, though she would naturally chalk it up to their shared interest in family history. Whatever. The important thing was that she had let him in. He might be able to take it easy on her.

  Just when Ellory thought coercion wouldn't be necessary, Talisen surprised him. “Thanks, Ellory, but since I can't pay you back for the room, I'd rather not take you up on it."

  Ah. That was her pride talking. Fixing his gaze on hers, Ellory built a first-class vampiric compulsion thread by thread and wrapped it around Talisen like a blanket.

  She yawned until her jaw popped, and her face flushed with embarrassment. “I really can't go there. I just can't."

  He'd never encountered a human as strong as she was. He gave her another mental shove toward oblivion. When her eyes glazed over, he whispered, “I promise you, the memories you encounter at the inn will be happy for you, not sad. You'll feel safe and content there. Come along. Let's collect your things."

  She blinked sleepily and, like a marionette, began to gather her belongings.

  He didn't like deceiving her. It galled him. Why? The use of deception was a mercy to one's prey. And it wasn't as if she meant anything to him. Or ever could.

  Nothing could be more impossible.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

&nbs
p; Chapter Two

  Talisen lifted her head and squinted at the headlights passing in dizzy succession. What in the world?

  She looked around the leather front seat of Ellory's car. As they rolled through an intersection, the streetlights glinted off the Jaguar emblem on his steering wheel and gleamed in his eyes.

  He glanced at her and smiled, then shifted his gaze back to the road. “Feel better?"

  "I don't even remember nodding off.” For that matter, she didn't remember leaving the park. A shudder went through her. Her whole body felt half-numb and half-awake.

  Ellory leaned forward and turned up the heat. “I let Mrs. Gerard know we're on our way."

  Talisen leaned back in the seat with a weary sigh. She'd missed a lot of sleep this week. Maybe it was catching up with her.

  Ellory was quiet, the car hushed and warm. She fought off a yawn and made an effort not to fall back asleep. “What do you do, Ellory?"

  Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached into the glove compartment, pulled out a CD, and handed it to her. “My latest."

  Talisen read the title aloud. “Midnight Sun. Nocturnes by.... “She jerked her head up to look at him. “E.B. Arthur?"

  Ellory made a gesture reminiscent of doffing a hat. “Now that you know my secret identity, you have to swear never to divulge it to another soul."

  "Okay. I swear on your new CD that I won't tell anyone you're E.B. Arthur."

  "Not good enough."

  "What should I swear on, then?"

  "Your life, of course. We'll make it a blood pact."

  The sudden heat in his voice sent another shiver up Talisen's spine. His electric eyes lent his face a sexy, lethal look. She shivered again.

  She skimmed the titles on the CD case. Some were already familiar to her from hearing them on the radio.

  "Your music hurts,” she murmured.

  "Care to expound on that?"

  "No."

  "Oh, come on. Tell me."

  "All right. It's the soul mate thing."

  "And that hurts you?"

  "Yes, and by the sound of your music, it hurts you too. Don't lie."

  He laughed. “So you don't like soul mate songs?"

  "I didn't say that. I crave them. That's what it is about your music. It makes me hungry for something I don't have a name for. Or someone. It hurts, but ... it hurts really good."

  Ellory looked at her for so long she wondered how the car hugged the road like it did. “Thank you."

  He looked ahead again, and Talisen put the CD in the player. His music filled the car's interior with haunting sound, despair mingled with desire and devotion. He composed most of his pieces for piano and electric violin. Like the choir voices that lent his music an ethereal quality, the sensual backbeat was created on a synthesizer. It was a blend of the primitive and the angelic.

  She couldn't help wondering if Ellory was like that when he loved someone. How else could he provoke those feelings in others? If he loved like that ... if he made love like that ... what must he be like to love?

  "Hey, Ellory?"

  "Yes?"

  "Will you play for me sometime?"

  He smiled without looking at her. “I'd love to. In fact, maybe you can help me with my current piece. It hasn't told me what it wants to be called yet, and I think it's my favorite."

  When they pulled up at the Benedikt, Ellory pointed at a nest of twinkling lights, dense foliage and trees further up the hill. “That's the summer house."

  "Yes, the place with the jungle."

  "It's a mess, isn't it? I don't know what my son Sean can do with it, but give teenagers time and they can do anything."

  "You have a son?"

  Affection and pride pervaded Ellory's voice. “Three sons, four daughters, all adopted. Actually, Sean works for me, but he and his little sister Shelby are as much my own as the rest. Being a single parent isn't easy, but we all help each other, and they get along pretty well, so it's mostly a joy."

  Being rich didn't hurt, either. Talisen grinned. “You're doing a great job if you can raise seven children by yourself and still have time to write such beautiful music."

  When they pulled up at the Benedikt and entered the warm, fragrant parlor, Talisen braced herself for a barrage of memories to set in. It had only been a couple of weeks since her last brunch with Grandma.

  The smell of spices from the kitchen and the sight of the familiar tavern-style furnishings around her brought back all the fun she'd had growing up with Grandma. But her grief remained distant, as though it belonged outside of her.

  It was as if the inn had morphed into a safety zone with Ellory's name on it. She didn't want to question it. She just wanted to feel it.

  Ellory put a hand under her elbow. “Okay so far?"

  She nodded, amazed. “I don't know how, but yes, I'm fine."

  That seemed to please him. He looked downright self-satisfied, in fact. Maybe it was a matter of family pride to him for her to feel secure here.

  Mrs. Gerard came out of the office with a beaming smile for Ellory. When she saw Talisen, her face flushed red, and she shook her head at her. “I thought your grandmother was persistent, but you take the cake. I don't know how found Mr. Benedikt, but I hope you didn't give him the idea that I helped you."

  Before Talisen could respond, Ellory wrapped his arm around her and gave her a hearty squeeze. “I was just about to thank you for sending Talisen my way. Did you know one of her ancestors married into my family back in the Captain's day? We should treat her like family. What do you say?"

  Of course, Mrs. Gerard had to capitulate. “Certainly, sir."

  Talisen gave her a disarming smile. “Thanks for giving me a room on such short notice."

  The lady winked at Ellory. “We're always ready for Mr. Benedikt, just in case he ever decides to actually take us up on our hospitality."

  "I'll only be here for one night,” Talisen asserted.

  Ellory shot her a chiding grin. “Says who?"

  "Says me."

  His response was a devilish laugh that loosed a swarm of butterflies inside her.

  Mrs. Gerard led them up the creaking stairs. When they bypassed the second story and continued to the top of the house, Talisen's heart leaped. She knew which room was up here. She and Grandma had never actually seen it, only the picture on the inn's web site. And, of course, the Gerards would naturally reserve the best in the inn for Ellory.

  Mrs. Gerard pushed a door open and flipped on a light. Talisen followed her in. Turning in a slow circle, she eyed the room around her, speechless with appreciation. They called it the Captain's Suite in the brochures. These had been his rooms.

  * * * *

  When Talisen turned and smiled at him, Ellory drew a sharp breath. Mother-of-pearl teeth. Sun-bright, dancing green eyes. She turned him inside out. Before he could help it, he smiled back at her, then cleared his throat and looked away. He'd done the right thing to bring her here. The chance to stay in this room would take the sting out of her embarrassment over not being able to pay for it.

  It had been the only stipulation he'd made in his contract with the Gerards: these rooms were not to be offered to the clientele. It didn't matter that he hadn't set foot in them in over two hundred years—and wouldn't for a thousand more. He couldn't tolerate the thought of strangers sleeping here.

  "I'll get Jeff to bring up the rest of her things,” Mrs. Gerard said to him.

  He handed his key to her. “Ms. Davies travels light. Just the cardboard box in the trunk."

  She cast a dubious smile at Talisen and left.

  Leaning in the doorway, Ellory watched Talisen kneel over a chest at the end of the big four poster, presenting him with an enticing view of her backside. He swallowed hard, going slowly mad at the sight of her beautiful, bobbing behind. She was round and supple in all his favorite places.

  She stood, holding up a blue and white quilt she'd found in the chest, and laid it over the rocker by the fireplace before explori
ng the objects on the mantle. A piece of scrimshaw. A long-stemmed pipe. A pewter tankard.

  Props. That was all they were. The pipe was the only thing that moved him. He still missed his tobacco, the pleasant simplicity of enjoying a good smoke and a pint of ale after a day of hard work.

  The night wind swept in through an open window. He knew Talisen smelled only the salty sea and the green of the forest. He, however, smelled the blood of potential prey and could hear every heartbeat in the inn. Only hers called to him.

  But he still didn't want to set foot in this room. Talisen wasn't the only one who could be haunted by memories of this old place. Though a thousand of his mortal days hadn't burned as brightly as one of his immortal nights, sometimes he longed for his lost humanity. When a vampire fed on a human, he tasted the mortal heart and experienced mortality again. And though few would admit it, that vicarious glimpse of a life they'd never know again was as important to them as the sustenance they took from human blood.

  Talisen turned to him with disbelief and delight written on her face. “If Grandma could see this...."

  "What would she say?” he asked.

  "That she expects the Captain himself to come walking in."

  "What would you do if he did?"

  She laughed, but dodged his question. “This is a dream come true. How can I thank you?"

  "That depends. What's a dream come true worth to you?"

  Talisen treated him to a devil-may-care smile and looked as if she had a ready reply for him, but the arrival of the Gerards's son preempted her remark.

  While the boy brought up the rest of her things and lit a fire in the hearth, Talisen pulled a heavy woolen nightgown out of her cardboard box and shook it out, filling the room with her scent. She disappeared into the bathroom, which had once been his dressing room. By the time she emerged, they were alone again.

  Ellory watched her put away the rest of her belongings, his gaze captured by her every move. The chaste garment made her seem as though she belonged in this room. She stood at the fire for a moment and brushed her hair. The tendrils fell in cinnamon spirals down her back. The firelight silhouetted her curves, and what he couldn't see made him want her more. He winced. If he didn't get hold of himself, the bulge in his fly would make it obvious to her exactly how he'd like to be thanked.