GRANITE KISS
JENNIFER COLE
LYRICAL PRESS
http://lyricalpress.com/
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/
For my sister
Prologue
Spring 1792
The noonday sun shone bright above. The warm, swirling currents of the breeze rustled the leaves on nearby trees. Wild honeysuckle blossoms scented the air. In a meadow, the long blades of thick, green grass rolled like gentle ripples across a lake. Overhead, a small flock of swallows sung a chorus of merriment.
In the tall grass, Zander lowered Princess Aceline to the ground. Her slender arms encircled his neck as soft, feminine sounds whispered past her full lips, in between their exchange of sweet kisses. The princess’s body trembled against the length of his frame as he pressed himself to her. The petite form he held in his arms felt wonderful. Spirals of dark tresses fanned out on the ground around her, carrying a faint aroma of rose, which she’d used to scent the water of her bath. A sensual, pink blush tinting the tops of her high cheekbones made the flesh inside Zander’s trousers strain for release against the tattered fabric.
Ever since their secret and forbidden courtship began several months earlier, Zander dreamt of a future with Aceline. One he knew could never be. Knowing he must find contentment with the little time they shared together, Zander savored every stolen moment with his beloved as if it would be his last.
No matter what heroic or death-defying feat he accomplished, Zander would never measure up to royal standards. The king would never consent to his eldest daughter taking a pauper farm boy as her husband, no matter how in love Aceline was with him.
And she had declared her deep love for him.
Moments before, Princess Aceline had offered Zander her maidenhead. In all his young life, he could not recall ever being given a more precious gift.
“Are you certain, my love?” he asked as he worked with urgency to unlace the silk ribbons of her gown.
She sighed as he brushed the backs of his fingers against the pale swell of her breast. “Yes, my lord.”
“I am not a lord, my princess,” Zander reminded her. “In fact, quite far from it.”
“You are my lord,” his princess assured him with a sassy smirk. “Forever and always.”
Again their lips met, and with haste the two young lovers worked to rid each other of their clothing.
As he settled himself between Aceline’s thighs, Zander whispered, “I love you, my princess.”
“And I you, my love.” Aceline’s bright blue eyes sparkled with desire. “Now make me yours and yours alone.”
Holding her gaze, Zander pushed his hips forward, and the tip of his manhood slid into the tight, wet sheath of Aceline’s body. Beneath him, Aceline’s tiny frame tensed while he advanced. Her slender legs wrapped around his hips as he seated himself fully within her.
He cupped the underside of the princess’s left breast, and into his salivating mouth he suckled the tiny, rose-colored tip.
“You taste like heaven, my princess,” he said, before turning his affections to her right breast.
“Please,” she whimpered.
As Zander withdrew from the gripping, intimate flesh of his Aceline, the air stilled, and the cheerful song of the birds deadened. The hammering of a great many hooves pounding against the earth snapped Zander to attention. Raising his head, he spied the king’s fleet fast approaching. Pulling his manhood from the depths of Aceline’s warm sheath, he leapt to his feet.
“Get dressed,” he ordered, tugging his tattered trousers up over his hips. “Your father–”
“Seize him!” the king shouted.
As if sprouting powerful wings, a knight flew from the back of his horse, taking Zander to the ground. After binding his hands behind his back, the knight tethered Zander’s lead to the horn of his saddle.
Through the ringing in his ears, Zander heard the sharp sound of flesh striking flesh. With a quick twist, he turned his head to the right. He spied Princess Aceline curled up on the ground, naked, holding the left side of her face in her hand. A tear trickled from one corner of her cobalt eyes.
Above her the king stood, berating Aceline with a string of profanities.
“Mark my words, Your Highness,” Zander growled, his body trembling with building anger, “I will kill you with my own two hands if you strike the princess again.”
With lightning speed, and not a word, the king lashed out. This time when the back of his hand connected with his daughter’s face, her lower lip split open.
Ruby red droplets of blood ran down her chin. With wide eyes, she looked at Zander, glowering.
The sudden change in her demeanor gave Zander pause. Why would his princess be angry at his defending her, and her honor? It mattered not that he was a lowly farm boy; he would lay down his life for his Aceline.
Before Zander could react, the king yanked the princess to her feet roughly, and after grabbing her dress from the ground, tossed it at her.
“Dress yourself, whore,” the ruler of their land spat out at his daughter, before mounting his steed.
When Zander attempted to give the king a tongue-lashing, a sharp elbow to his ribs doubled him over, and he gasped for breath.
Behind the knight’s jet black stallion, Zander was led back to the castle. Once there, his captor placed him in a dark, dingy cell in the dungeon beneath.
For several days, Zander endured beatings and tortures until near unconsciousness, but his spirit could never be broken. Not once during his imprisonment did he think of himself, his mind always on his beloved Aceline. Despite the continuous questioning he plagued the guards with regarding the princess’s well-being, Zander was told nothing.
Helpless behind the cold bars of his prison, he prayed to the gods to keep his beloved safe. His body bore the painful evidence of the torture delivered by the king and his men, and he hoped the king had shown mercy for his own flesh and blood.
On the seventh day of his seizure, and nearing death’s door with each passing moment, Zander found himself being dragged from his dirty, dank cell to stand alongside several others of the king’s prisoners. Iron restraints were fastened around their ankles and wrists, and the men were chained together with heavy links of metal.
The burden of the metal weighing down his malnourished and exhausted body had Zander struggling to remain upright. He shuffled barefoot along the ground, while his knees threatened to buckle under the strain of carrying extra weight on his weakened frame.
In single file, the captives were led up several flights of stone stairs until they arrived at the tallest turret of the castle. At the top, the king himself awaited them.
All but Zander kept their heads lowered, their eyes focused on the ground at their feet. With a display of defiance, Zander met the king’s gaze of hatred. A smug grin of satisfaction lifted the corners of his mouth. Dressed in fine tailored silks, the king stood before his prisoners. In silence, his stance challenged a bound Zander to make a valiant move to thwart him. A cloak of heavy velvet draped over his shoulders and hung to the ground. The precious gems and metal which made up the crown atop the king’s head sparkled in the flickering light of the single torch illuminating the turret.
Behind the king dawn approached. The vibrant, violet hues dancing across the early morning sky were hauntingly beautiful. Beside him stood a frail, elderly man clothed in a simple, silk sheath. His scruffy white beard hung almost to his knees, and an oddly shaped hat adorned his head.
“Now, wizard,” the king boomed. “Let us see if you are as powerful as you claim. Do my bidding.”
“Aye, Sire,” the old man said, his voice cracking.
The old wizard began chanting in a ton
gue foreign to Zander. Latin, he assumed.
From between the cracks in the blocks of stone which they stood upon, a mist rose, swirling eerily around the occupants standing on the turret.
Panic surged through the bound men as the wizard’s voice rose. The scent of fear and uncertainty, and evil, whirled in the mist and the air around them.
As the crest of the new sun appeared upon the horizon, the last words to fill Zander’s ears were, “With this and for all eternity, I cast a spell of humility over you!”
* * * *
Present Day
The last sliver of sunlight disappeared beneath the horizon, and the explosion of concrete shattering echoed across the night air.
As he drew breath into his oxygen starved lungs, the broad expanse of his chest heaved.
A mighty roar split the night, rivaling the sound the exploding concrete had made only seconds before.
After stretching to stimulate blood flow to the stiffness of his muscles, his glowing, amber eyes scanned the vast darkness surrounding him.
With one last deep breath, he launched himself off the side of the building.
Chapter 1
“Damn it,” Elena Xavier muttered to herself, zipping up her jeans before tugging a sweater over her head. “I’m going to be late.”
She raced around her tiny apartment, getting ready for work. A part of her wished she hadn’t agreed to pull the late shift the night before, because today her ass would be dragging. Oh well, the students’ education was the important thing. If she hadn’t filled in for another technician, the university library would have closed around the supper hour, which wouldn’t have been fair to the kids who used the facility to study and carry out their research in the evenings.
A swift glance over her shoulder made Elena scowl harder. The wall clock ticked away the seconds as she debated calling a cab to get her the twelve blocks to the campus. Except taking a taxi seemed like a shame on such a glorious morning.
With the first of November around the corner, the nice days for walking back and forth to work would become fewer and farther between. Soon the rains would be falling, quickly followed by a drastic drop in temperature, and then snow. Colder temps and record amounts of snowfall were predicted this year. Folks were already preparing for the worst winter in more than fifteen years.
The squeaking of metal scraping metal made Elena think of nails scratching down a chalkboard, as she slid the screen open to feed the stray who’d decided she was now a member of his personal staff. A soft ‘meow’ greeted the rattle of kibble in a small dish outside her kitchen window. Elena’s nose tingled, allergies kicking up just at the thought of cat hair dusting her furniture.
A quick scan through her one bedroom apartment assured her the stray wouldn’t be making his way inside. She’d grown attached to the little furball and gave thought to building a shelter for him outdoors before the weather turned bad.
Tugging a bulging backpack over her shoulders, Elena locked the door behind her.
The fragrance of the changing of the seasons carried in the breeze, the bright sun above warming the crisp morning air. The streets bustled to life with students walking or cycling toward the university. Vehicles raced up and down the asphalt while folks fought the morning commute.
A deep inhalation of fall air brought to Elena’s mind thoughts of family togetherness, and just general fun. Ever since she was a little girl, autumn had always been her favorite time of the year.
Across the street, Elena watched an elderly man stuff a scarecrow with straw while sitting on the wooden steps of his porch. Despite the revving engines of passing cars, she tuned into the rustling of the many dried cornstalks placed around the front yard.
A grin lifted the corners of her mouth, and pleasant warmth filled her.
The effort people put into decorating their homes and lawns for fall and Halloween excited Elena much in the same way Christmas did for others. She thrilled at spooky ghost stories and was a lover of all things paranormal. More than once Elena had been told she was the ‘Halloween spirit’.
Rounding a corner at the end of the block, she nearly smacked right into a pirate. His costume came complete with a stuffed scarlet macaw on his shoulder and a black patch over one eye.
“Arrrgh,” he said. “S’cuse me, lassie.” With a lopsided grin, he tipped his leather tricorn hat and offered a wink before stepping aside, allowing her to pass.
Returning his smile, Elena entertained memories of her childhood as she took a moment to enjoy his attire.
Growing up, she would spend months preparing for her favorite night of the year. Careful consideration would be taken when deciding on a costume, and she prided herself that each and every year she’d created something unique.
After losing her parents before she had any real memories of them, her maternal grandmother had raised her. Sitting side-by-side, stitching Elena’s latest costume idea together had been a tradition they’d shared right up until her grandmother had passed two years earlier.
Lost in her thoughts as she enjoyed the walk, Elena stood at a light seven blocks from home when she mentally kicked herself for not calling a cab. Despite being more than halfway to the university, she was now going to be really late!
Breaking out in a jog, Elena hoped the students had enjoyed some pre-Halloween fun the previous night, and no one would be standing at the doors waiting for her to open.
As Elena hurried to her post in the university library, she narrowly avoided running into her third vampire since entering the campus. The week before Halloween was always more eventful than any other holiday, but most of the faculty didn’t see it as a disturbance.
She dug through her purse and pulled out the miniature sized candy bars she’d begun carrying three years ago when she’d first encountered the ritual “trick or treat” pranksters. Dropping two into the offered bag of an axe-murderer’s victim, she smiled at the student, who she recognized from the stacks.
At ten minutes past eight, she arrived at the library door, relieved to find no students waiting yet. Under her breath, Elena cursed her absentmindedness at running behind. Until this morning, her attendance record had been impeccable, and she’d taken pride in that. From as far back as she could remember, she’d adopted the letter carrier’s motto: neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night...
Elena never once regretted going the extra mile where the students were concerned. Dedicating one-hundred percent of her energies to the kids’ needs was her way of giving back to education. To this day, she often thought of several teachers who had made a difference in her life, and she hoped one day a student would look back on their own life and perhaps remember her.
Tucking her backpack under the counter, Elena fired up the administrative computer and then took a walk around the library. The evening before she’d been in a rush to leave. Now, she took a couple of minutes to collect a few abandoned books from the tabletops. In the computer lab, she checked the network connection, changed the backup tapes and turned on the desktops. As she strolled back to the counter to begin logging in a new shipment of books, the door opened. Glancing up, she noted a gorilla, a nun and an axe murderer entering.
As she studied the trio, a smile curled Elena’s lips, and she felt her cheeks heat as she mused at the kids’ enthusiasm.
“Hi, Elena,” the young man dressed in the habit greeted her.
Elena loved Halloween, always had!
“Hey, E,” a muffled male voice under the gorilla mask said.
The axe murderer waved his plastic toy hatchet. Pulling a goalie mask from his face he called over, “Looking good, El.”
She smiled. “Good morning, guys.”
* * * *
When the time came, Elena signaled her coworker and headed out for lunch. Determined to enjoy the last of the Indian Summer, Elena munched through her salad and sipped an iced tea beneath the shady elm across from the library entrance. She still had thirty minutes before needing to return, so she pu
lled out the newest release from her favorite author.
One page in, Elena’s skin began to tingle, and an unpleasant chill raced up her spine. Glancing up from her book, she scanned the area around her. No one drew her attention, so she figured it was probably her overactive thoughts getting revved up about the spooky novel. That, and perhaps some of it could be attributed to the mass of students in costumes littering the campus yard.
A gentle tremor worked its way from the tips of Elena’s toes to the top of her head.
Turning her focus back to her book, Elena took a bite of her apple and had the unmistakable sensation she was being watched. Once again, she looked around, and for the second time, no one appeared to be paying her any mind.
Although she went back to her book, she couldn’t concentrate. Her skin prickled, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Someone was watching her, with intent. The weight of the stare grew heavier, making her very uncomfortable.
Unable to tolerate the disturbing sensations any longer, Elena quickly collected her garbage and tossed her book in her bag, stood up and dusted her backside off. After depositing her waste in a trash can, she nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand clamped down on her shoulder.
“Elena?”
Elena spun around so fast, she lost her balance. Strong hands wrapped around her upper arms, holding her upright.
“Jesus, Jeff,” she gasped, when she glanced up and realized who held her. Pressing a hand to the middle of her chest to settle the pounding of her heart, she drew several deep breaths. “You scared the hell out of me.”
A chill raced through her, and she shivered. Elena reached up and gripped Jeff’s navy sweatshirt in her fists. Taking a step closer to him, she attempted to draw from his strength. Something about Jeff’s presence at that very moment brought her comfort.
“I’m sorry,” Jeff said. Seeming to sense her distress, he pulled her closer still. “I called out to you, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”
Granite Kiss Page 1
