Revenant

by Janet Jones

  She crossed her arms. “You said we'd talk."

  Rudyard that she was, she wasn't going to dodge anything. He held out his hands, palms up. “Ask me anything.” And God help her, he meant it.

  "I will."

  "Why don't we go up to the studio? It's quiet and private. And I want you to see it. I thought you might use it for your workspace, perhaps do some of your painting there in the evenings with me, while I work."

  She gave him a pert nod and strode up the hall to the stairway. The sight of her swaying hips as she ascended ahead of him sent a quiver through Ellory.

  She said over her shoulder, “Shelby says you guys have a pool table. Do you play?"

  "I haven't the aptitude for it.” He tapped the banister, trying not to think of how badly he wanted to kiss her. “Shelby and I knock a few balls around from time to time."

  "I could teach you, if you want."

  The blood rushed into his groin. “I'd like that, Talisen."

  "Okay. We'll talk and play."

  He bit back a groan.

  * * * *

  Talisen smiled to herself. But not for long. She was determined to put her objectivity first for once. She could be an absolute brick—as long as Ellory didn't stand too close to her. She blew out a breath. Don't think of his charms, just his answers.

  The game room/studio ran the length and breadth of the house. It was warm and a little musty, much as any attic would be after a day of full sun and no fresh air.

  Talisen crossed to a window and opened it, letting in the night wind. Below her, the treetops swayed, giving her the disorienting feeling that the world below was in constant motion. A thread of lightning lit up the sea and sky.

  She turned away, uneasy, and cast a glance around the attic. One end comprised a second family area, much like the den downstairs, except that it had the billiard table. The studio took up the rest of the room, inhabited by another piano. An assortment of guitars, an electric violin, and an ancient-looking concertina lay strewn across a long table. In the corner opposite the piano stood a monster of a synthesizer.

  When she heard Ellory close the door, she swallowed hard from both anticipation and uncertainty. She glanced around at him. He was leaning on the doorknob, just watching her. Unable to stand his unblinking gaze, she went to the pool table and racked the balls.

  She chose a cue stick from the wall rack and set the cue ball in place. Chalking the tip of her stick, she bent, aimed, and poured all her frustration into a thrust that sent the balls scattering. Several plopped into pockets.

  She fixed her gaze on the shots open to her, acutely aware of Ellory at the rack, picking out a cue stick. She took a shot. The nine-ball sank into the corner. She felt him maneuver to stand behind her, and the scent of rain and forest on his clothes teased her nose. She missed her next shot.

  "Okay, Ellory, you're solids."

  He eyed the table, his face a mask of concentration, and bent to take his aim. Talisen held her breath while her gaze traveled the line of his generous shoulders, his strong back, his muscular hips and taut behind. His button fly. She closed her eyes and opened them again, focusing on the table.

  Ellory clobbered the cue-ball and the six into a corner pocket and straightened with a grin. “Ah! Two at once."

  She tried to be gentle. “You're not supposed to sink the white one. That's called scratching."

  "I thought I was solids."

  "Solid or no, the cue-ball doesn't belong to either of us."

  He shrugged amiably. “What happens now?"

  She dug the white ball and the six out of the pocket. “We have to put your ball back on the table, and I get to put the cue ball where I want to and take my turn."

  "No fair,” he said, but his brown eyes were twinkling. “Don't I get a handicap for being a beginner?"

  She couldn't resist. She looked him over with a mean grin. “You don't look particularly handicapped to me."

  He gave a low, appreciative laugh that ended in “Hmmm."

  She bent over the table, lining up for her shot. “Come here and let me show you how to do it."

  His half-laugh, half-groan made her smile. When he leaned over her from behind, the heat of his body wrapped around her. She felt his stubbly cheek brush the side of her face as he bent close to look over her shoulder. But he wasn't looking down the end of her cue stick where he was supposed to be looking. He was looking at her with an oh-so-innocent smile.

  She jerked her gaze away and eyed the ball she was aiming for. The orange-and-white sphere blurred into the green plane of the table. “Lesson One. Jabbing at your target makes it harder to control your aim."

  A low, gravelly laugh sounded in his throat.

  She went bravely on, fighting off a grin. “If you use an easy, smooth stroke with a good follow-through, that'll keep your line of fire straight."

  Ellory buried his head in the crook of his arm and shook with laughter.

  She slapped the top of his head, wanting to leave her hand where it fell and run it through his hair. “Will you pay attention, please, and keep your mind where it belongs?"

  He lifted his head, his eyes shining. “I'm all attention. I don't want to miss. Not with you."

  She fixed her gaze on her thirteen ball. “I was saying, you're less likely to miss your shot if you use a ... a.... “She felt his warm breath on her neck, and she squeezed the words out, feeling hot all over. “...a gentle, coordinated stroke."

  His mouth brushed her shoulder. Her skin was so alive she felt his caress through her shirt as though she wasn't wearing one.

  "A gentle, coordinated stroke,” he echoed.

  "N-no jabbing."

  His arms closed around her. “Wouldn't think of it."

  His hands closed over hers on the cue stick and gave a subtle squeeze.

  Her voice stuck in her throat and came out as a moan. “Of course ... there are times when strength can be useful...."

  "And when is that?” he whispered. “Please, tell me."

  His mouth closed over her right earlobe, and for a moment, she couldn't put two words together to save her life. “When you break the balls."

  He recoiled with a painful chuckle. “There's bound to be another way to put that."

  "Serves you right.” She gave him a shove with her shoulder. “Stand over there out of the way so I can ask you some questions."

  He retreated to the periphery of her vision with a grin.

  Talisen aimed again. “What's in the cellar fridge?"

  "Twenty-eight units of whole blood."

  The tip of her stick skimmed the top of the cue ball and skidded along the felt of the tabletop. She jerked around and stared at him. “Blood? For what?"

  "To treat a condition I have."

  Talisen clenched her cue stick until her fingers ached. Okay, this was when he was going to tell her he was dying of an incurable disease and had a month and a half to live. Her throat ached. “It must be pretty serious."

  Ellory took his turn and sank the five-ball. “Can be."

  But he looked so robust. “I didn't know you could just get blood and keep it around like that."

  "It's not that hard, really. I visit the local blood-bank every month, and a very nice man named Roger gives it to me.” He added with an edge in his voice that made her realize he wasn't kidding, “Because I want it."

  She swallowed. “What kind of condition is it?"

  "The same kind my children have.” He bent to take aim. “Except for Shelby and Sean. They're ... like you."

  How could they all have the same disease? Was that why Ellory had adopted these particular children? It sounded like a late-night tearjerker. “Is it contagious?"

  He gave a harsh laugh, stalking to the other side of the table to study his shot. “Only if we choose to make it so."

  Weirdness again. It reared its spiny head and left her feeling prickly all over. She watched Ellory's three-ball creep slowly toward a side pocket, tremble on the edge, and fall still at the
very mouth of the abyss.

  When he looked at her, his eyes were a shade darker than a moment ago. No humor whatsoever. “Your turn."

  She looked down at the table, but hardly saw it. She chose her shot randomly, didn't aim, and missed. “So, you're sick?"

  "No.” He sent his two-ball slicking across the table into the side pocket. “We're never sick."

  Talisen caught her lower lip in her teeth. They eyed each other across the pool table. “Then what's the blood for?"

  Ellory laid aside his cue stick, came around to her, took hers from her hands and set it on the pool table. He pulled her into his embrace, his voice gentle and reasonable, as though she were Shelby's age. “When I tell you, you'll wish I hadn't. And the last thing in the world you'll want to give me is the one thing I have to have from you. Right now."

  Talisen's mouth was parched, the rest of her clammy. “What do you need from me?"

  "Your absolute trust. I haven't been honest with you."

  Here it comes. He's going to tell me he's married. Of course. He is married, but his wife is on vacation and—

  "I told you I didn't know much about Benedikt,” he went on. “In truth, I can tell you everything you want to know about him. Everything he loved, everything he dreamed, everything he wanted in life, even his simplest pleasures, down to his favorite time of the day.” His face flushed a deep crimson, and his eyes blazed. “Morning."

  She blinked, holding her breath. How could he possibly know that? Her skin prickled with goose bumps all the way to her curling toes. And then she realized what he was trying to say. It took a second for relief to flood her body for having hit on the only logical explanation for why Ellory would know such personal details about the Captain.

  She grinned up at him. “Oh, I get it. You've got more logbooks, right? But you didn't want to tell me until you knew you could trust me with them? No problem. You're forgiven. Now, let me get my notebook."

  He shook his head. “No, this is between you and me. I'm going to give you my darkest secret, and you're going to give me something equally precious in return. A bargain. Understand? You can't share it with others. You won't want to. It'll challenge everything you believe in."

  "I hate to burst your bubble, Ellory, but if you're going to tell me the Captain was abducted by aliens, there are two aunts and five cousins who are way ahead of you on that one."

  "He was abducted, to be sure."

  Abducted? Really and truly abducted? Talisen's heart thudded hard. She knew without doubt, felt it in her soul, that Ellory was telling the truth. Her curiosity grew teeth and wouldn't let go. Finally. The fate of her Captain. Was she ready to know? It was like knowing the end of a story she had hoped would somehow never end.

  No end to his story. No end to him.

  Pressing her face into Ellory's flannel shirt, she breathed in the scent of earth and sea, of clean, warm flesh beneath the softness. “And I can't write about it? What about the family history? That's for Grandma."

  Ellory rested his chin on top of her head. “I think she's privy to greater truths now than the fate of a single sea captain, don't you? However, you may write that ... Captain Arthur Ellory Benedikt was killed by an unknown attacker on his wedding night."

  Killed by an unknown attacker? Murdered.

  The force of Talisen's sorrow took her by surprise. It went deeper than the grief she'd felt for Grandma. This encompassed her soul. Tears stung her eyes, tears for the injustice of it.

  "Talisen, please don't cry. I'm sorry I can't let you write about it."

  She shook her head. How could she explain? Her Captain had never seemed a mere mortal man. Till now. “Why did it happen like that? He didn't deserve it."

  Ellory tightened his embrace. She felt his heart pounding against her own. She looked up to find him—smiling?

  "Ellory Benedikt, how can you stand there grinning at me when I'm—"

  "Can't say. Not yet. Tell me what you've decided."

  "First tell me what you get out of this bargain of yours."

  His eyes gleamed with such tenderness that it hurt to look at him. “You."

  She smiled slowly. “You have a wicked line, buster."

  He shook his head. “You'll find my demands unusual."

  "And that's supposed to scare me?"

  His smile faded. “Oh, yes."

  "Out with it, then."

  He pulled her close again. She felt his arms tremble. The world seemed to stand still. Ellory breathed the words, as though shedding a burden he had carried forever. “Captain Benedikt was attacked on his wedding night ... by a vampiress. He died, and yet, he didn't. He still exists, Talisen. You've found him."

  The jumble of nonsense penetrated the scalding fog of Talisen's frustration, leaving stark disappointment in its wake. She was so angry, no words would come. She planted both her hands against him and backed out of his embrace. The pool table halted her retreat. “That doesn't even dignify a response from me. I expected better of you, Ellory."

  He gave her a bitter, despairing smile. “You haven't seen my evidence, yet."

  She raised her hands. “Oh, by all means, prove it to me. You're Captain Arthur Ellory Benedikt, a man who's been dead for nearly three hundred years, formerly one of the best people who ever walked the earth, now a vampire. Yeah, right! I—"

  Ellory caught her wrists and brought her fisted hands to his mouth. His tongue stroked across her knuckles. There was power in the touch of his mouth and the gleam in his eyes.

  Talisen's body flushed hot, pulsing to life, and she shuddered before she could help it. “Don't...."

  "But I promised you proof of what I am.” Ellory relinquished one hand to concentrate on the other. His mouth coaxed her to unfold her clenched fingers, creating bedlam inside of her. “Besides, we haven't finished our game yet. Is it my turn or yours? No matter. Let's see. Two in the side."

  She felt the force of the ball's movement vibrating through her spine as it skidded across the table and slammed into the pocket. He'd done that without looking.

  He ran his tongue up the inside of her left arm. When he nipped the inside of her elbow, she moaned.

  "Your nine ball,” he whispered, “left corner. Oh, bother that, let's just get rid of them all, shall we?"

  They catapulted in all directions. She heard them hit the pockets like bullets.

  "S-stop,” she murmured.

  "But there's the eight-ball left. Would you like to call the pocket, or shall I?"

  "This is crazy."

  "I know. I'm not playing by the rules of the game, but there's no harm in being demonstrative to make a point. Eight in the side pocket."

  She heard the click of the cue ball strike its target gently and felt the eight-ball nestle into the pocket directly behind her backside.

  "I win,” Ellory whispered.

  His mouth hovered over the tender vein in the crook of her arm, sucking and stroking. He put an arm around her waist to pull her closer. She felt his need in the slow grind of his hips against hers.

  She was lost. Hopelessly, utterly lost in the erotic images that raced through her mind. She didn't want him to stop, even when she felt his fangs emerge. Instead of cold fear, desire jolted her body into a response she wasn't prepared for, and she shook against him.

  He couldn't be human. Nothing human could make someone's body feel like hers did right now.

  Ellory lifted his head and gave her a deliberate, brilliant smile. Her breath caught in her throat. His fangs were easily half an inch long. Sharp. White. Glistening.

  She stared in horrified fascination and lifted a finger to trace his perfect mouth. His fangs unsheathed another quarter-inch at her touch. He groaned softly, closing his eyes, trapping her finger between his tongue and the warm, moist roof of his mouth.

  Her breath rushed out of her. “Ellory ... please ... tell me you're just a harmless pervert with great dental implants."

  He released her wrist, planting a kiss on her palm, his eyes twinkling
and glinting by turns. “Sorry."

  For a space of a breath, Talisen's eyes went blotchy, and she swayed against him. When she felt her head clear, she was sitting on the pool table, resting her head on his shoulder, and the floor seemed a million miles below her.

  All the things that didn't add up began to fall into place with shocking ease. She refused to think about any of it. She distilled it all into a grain of nothingness and chunked it into the void inside of her, where moments ago, the world had been a sane place.

  One thought refused to be banished. It turned her voice to a croak. “Unusual demands, Ellory?"

  She felt his hand caress the back of her head. “I wanted to give you more time."

  A tremor invaded her that wouldn't stop. Her emotions ran together in a searing pool. Too many feelings to bear. “You had this planned from the start?"

  "From the moment I felt your presence on the beach. I can't explain it. I was called there, in that place, at that moment, to be with you. That much I'm sure of. You fill me with a warmth and solace I've never experienced with anyone. I haven't seen the sun in over two hundred years, Talisen, but being with you is like feeling the sun rise in my soul."

  His hand cupped her face and tipped her head back, so that her gaze met the balmy brown of his eyes. “You are so beautiful inside. All the admiration and love you've harbored for the man I was in my human life is too sweet and powerful for me to resist. Perhaps it has to do with your ancestry, our shared connection through Maddie's family. I only know that I can't let you walk out of my life and leave me in the dark again."

  She drew a ragged half-breath. “You can't ... let me?"

  He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “This is when you have to trust me the most, Talisen. Doubt will cost you."

  Adrenaline poured into Talisen's body, pushing a weakness ahead of it through every muscle and joint. She let go of him and leaned back on the pool table, covering her face with her hands before looking up at him again. “I can't believe any of this, Ellory."

  His expression grew soulful. “You will. Something has happened that makes it imperative that I don't dawdle. After tonight, we'll be at our leisure again, and I promise you, I will make every effort to make you comfortable with me."