The Trelayne Inheritance

by Colleen Shannon

  Terrible comprehension again made Sarina’s eyes glow red. For an instant, she took her true form again. Then her face was a brilliant grid of wrinkles highlighted by the light from Max’s watch as he flipped it open, softly speaking his incantation.

  As the light blazed into Sarina’s eyes, turning her, in her weakened state, to lobster red, Max drove down with the hammer. Once, twice, thrice, and the deed was done.

  Gustav and Shelly had to shield their eyes from the brilliant light, so they missed the last of what happened.

  As the stake struck through her heart, hitting the stone floor with a terrible, ringing finality, Sarina reached up to Max. Strangely, her blackened hand formed no claw. She cradled his cheek, as if, too late, now that her long life was finally ended, she grasped for the tender humanity that had once been hers.

  “I could have loved you,” she whispered. Her red eyes faded to blue, and then they dissolved to ash in their sockets. The process accelerated rapidly, head to toe, as her hideous, bony face and form simply dissolved to ash.

  Shelly and Gustav watched analytically, fascinated.

  Because of her extreme age, Sarina was very dry and brittle. She left no chunks and bone remnants such as Alexander. Only a black powder so fine that all Max had to do was blow.

  Dust dissipated down the corridors, a brief fog of black haze, and then it drifted out the entrance into the late sunshine, becoming one with the earth again.

  Sarina was gone.

  Bowing his head, Max looked truly exhausted, his face still pale from the blood he’d lost, but then he staggered over to Angel’s coffin and lifted the lid. The smiling face that stared back at him helped his own color return. Tenderly, he cradled that face in his hands, kissing her cheeks, nose and throat as she sat up.

  He moved to help her out, but instead, she dragged him inside on top of her.

  “What are you doing, wench?”

  “Fulfilling a fantasy. That’s what vampire rakes are all about, isn’t it?” Angel demanded. She reached up to kiss him, but Max pulled away.

  “And what would you say, my temptress, if I told you that I long for nothing more than the boring life of one human lifespan?”

  Angel looked around the walls at the march of years Sarina had ruled over. She ran the tip of her tongue over her own tiny fangs, as if testing them and her own dedication to what they entailed.

  Her decision didn’t take long. She smiled up at Max’s handsome, determined face. “I’d say boredom, after the last few months, sounds delightful. We’ll watch the grass grow together.”

  Soft laughter came from Gustav and Shelly as Max helped Angel out of her coffin. Angel looked between the coffins and Max. “But how do we accomplish that? I’ve never heard of a vampire choosing to become human before. Is it even possible?”

  “Perhaps not in the normal way of things. But with very special people with very special talents…” Max’s sparkling green eyes met the luminous, pale green ones of the wolf. “You spiked her wine, didn’t you? With something that began turning her human again. That’s why she couldn’t dissolve into vapor.”

  Shelly licked her paw without answering.

  Max demanded, “What did you use?”

  Shelly let him squirm for a moment longer before her mouth stretched into a taunting grin that showed all her formidable teeth. “You had the right theory, but used the wrong control substance. It’s not Angel’s blood that makes the perfect weapon against a vampire, Max. It’s your own. The life blood of a Watch Bearer.”

  Both Max and Angel looked stunned. Then they looked at one another, saying, “Of course,” in unison.

  Shelly finished, “The Watch Bearer is the only vampire created by choice, not converted by force. As Angel was a human becoming a vampire, you have been a vampire trying to remain human. This drink, based on your own blood, mixed with a few of my own additions such as liquid silver, merely accelerated the process.”

  “Where did you get the blood?”

  “Your own lab. Where you drew it yourself to test it with Angel’s.”

  “You invaded my home?” A black scowl descended over his face.

  She snorted, not in the least intimidated. “Without hesitation. And I should think I merited a thank you, not a lecture.”

  Max was silent, his mouth sulky again.

  It was apparent to all three what he was really angry about.

  He’d not thought of it first.

  With a last husky, mocking chuckle, Shelly the werewolf bounded up the steps.

  Max clenched his hands, staring after her.

  Angel had to cover a smile with her hand under his glare. “You look like a sulky little boy. I wonder…will our children have just that look of lordly disdain?”

  His eyes lit with green fire. “Aren’t you being a bit premature? Have I asked you to wed me?”

  “No, but you shall. I’m the only woman on the face of the planet who can stand up to you, in the lab and out of it.”

  Making a garbled excuse, his face red with embarrassment, Gustav followed Shelly outside.

  Neither Max nor Angel even noticed that he left. They were too intent on one another. Angel stuck her forefinger in the middle of his full lower lip. “I want them to have the shape of your mouth, to pout, and laugh, to make me angry, and make me glad. It was your mouth, you know, that followed me into my dreams and kept me sane.”

  And so, in this place of death where they’d almost been buried themselves, they celebrated life. They truly buried the past. No more recriminations, no more regrets.

  Standing over two coffins, they laid to rest old wrongs.

  And, living up to the motto of his family and hers, beneath her eternal resting place, they gave Elaine’s restless spirit surcease as they birthed a future built on the blessing of today…

  TWO WEEKS LATER

  With loathing, Max looked at the band Shelly tied about his wrist. “I’m feeling like a pin cushion.”

  “Pin cushions do not bleed.” Shelly inserted the needle and began, for the dozenth time in the past two weeks, removing his blood into a large vial. When he opened his mouth, she added tartly, “Nor do they complain so vociferously.”

  His mouth snapped shut. When she’d finished drawing his blood, he rolled his sleeve down and fastened it. He was dressed now in the garb of his time, proper Victorian pants, spats over his shoes and a plain shirt and thin tie.

  Liking his more dramatic attire, Angel had complained at first, but when he‘d pointed out that sedate married earls who wished to be invited to join the London Royal Society had best look the part, she desisted.

  Max took the vial from Shelly and mixed it meticulously with just the right chemicals in a beaker. Then, adding the diluted blood to wine, he drank a large glass. He made a face. “I can still taste it. And the thought of drinking my own blood is revolting.”

  “If blood no longer tastes good to you, it’s working.”

  “And I’m stumbling about at night--”

  “I know, and you can’t fly, or read minds. Poor pitiful human.”

  “I can still read Angel’s mind.” He smiled with anticipation.

  They’d wed a few days ago in a private ceremony attended only by Shelly, Gustav and a few villagers.

  Shelly laughed. “I apprehend you’re anticipating your long awaited wedding gift?”

  “It was delivered to our suite today.”

  “And what did you give her? I’ve noticed no sparkling ring or necklace.”

  He looked at her askance. “For Angel? You know her better than that. She got what she wanted most. The latest, most powerful microscope available, made in Germany. Cost me a pretty penny.”

  He poured a large glass of the elixir of humanity and started to the door with it. There, he stopped. He hunched his broad shoulders, and then he whirled abruptly. “Forgive me for not saying this earlier, but…thank you. We likely would not have survived without you. And we most certainly would not now be human.”

  Shell
y thought about teasing him, but she was too touched at this atypical humility. She merely nodded her head regally. “You are quite welcome.”

  Max smiled ruefully. “It’s been a very long time since I said this to anyone, but you, my dear Miss Holmes, humble me and make me feel quite stupid.”

  A smile curled about that generous mouth. “You gammon me, sir. I aver you’ve never said that at all. To human or vampire.”

  “I’ve most certainly never said it to a werewolf.”

  Shelly’s smile faded under the acute green gaze. It was her turn to move aside.

  A gentle hand landed on her shoulder. “And your own fate? Do you wish my aid in trying to reverse your ailment?”

  Shelly sighed and patted his hand. “I’ve worked on a cure these last two years, so far without success.”

  “But do you truly wish to be cured?”

  He saw more than she liked, certainly more than she was comfortable with. “The answer is–I have no answer.”

  Shelly looked at the neat notebooks filled with her formula, and the wine stored in casks. “But my time here is done.” She stepped away from him and began packing her own things in a valise.

  “Where will you go?”

  “America, I believe. I have an old friend in Boston who claims to have lost a child to a witch’s coven. He wrote begging for my help.”

  “The skills of a werewolf should come in quite handy in such an endeavor, I should think.”

  “Quite.”

  “And Gustav? Will he keep your secret?”

  Shelly laughed. She imitated Gustav’s deep, proper voice perfectly, “His response to that very question was something like, ‘Since I’ve no wish to take up residence in Bedlam, I’ll keep the truth of what happened to myself and say only that I know the Beefsteak Killer is dead.’ And he wished me well. He will be quite a great detective someday.”

  Shelly hefted her bag and turned to the door, where she offered her hand. It was almost as large and strong as Max’s.

  He shook it. Then he escorted her out of his lab up the stairs to the hallway that passed his suite of rooms. “But you can’t leave without telling Angel good-bye. She’s napping.”

  “Keeping her up at night, are you?”

  The bold Earl of Trelayne blushed. But then he grinned.

  Briskly, Shelly walked past Angel’s door. “Good-byes are trying affairs. Tell her…to enjoy the blessings of today. I’m fortunate to have known you both.” And just like that, she was gone, her steps firm upon the stair treads and upon the path of her own destiny.

  But Max saw the tears glimmering in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder at Angel’s closed door. And then her steps faded. He had a feeling they’d never see her again.

  A bit choked up himself, he took a moment to collect his emotions. Then he entered the suite. The bed was empty, but he heard Angel singing in the water closet. He set her glass of wine down on the bureau beneath the family shield bearing his motto.

  He was about to sneak into the water closet when she emerged, wearing only a gleaming silk robe and smelling like life, but looking like heaven. He clasped his hands around her waist. “Angel mine,” he whispered, reaching down to kiss her.

  Teasingly, she evaded him. “Haven’t you had enough of that?”

  “Your kisses are much more addictive than blood. Speaking of which…” He went to the bureau and offered her the glass.

  She made a face, but drank it. “How many more?”

  “Miss Holmes estimated another week should do it. She left enough mixed up for us.”

  “Left?”

  Max put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “She’s gone, Angel. She didn’t want the pain of good-byes.”

  Angel flew to the window and ripped aside the curtain in time to see Shelly getting onto her horse. Shelly looked up at the house. She lifted a hand, kicked her mount, and then she had disappeared among the trees.

  Tears bedewed Angel’s eyes. “I shall miss her.”

  “So shall I.”

  Angel finished the last of her wine, twiddling with the stem between her fingers. Something was obviously bothering her. Max had felt her, several times since they’d wed, dance close to a sensitive subject, then away from it. But when he tried to read her mine, she blocked him.

  “Your wedding gift has arrived, but before I give it to you, Max, there’s one thing I must know.”

  Max braced himself.

  Angel snapped her glass down. “Would you have killed me if Sarina had won me totally over to her side?”

  He tried to evade her by straightening his tie before the mirror.

  She turned him to face her. “Would you have taken that lovely golden hammer and driven a stake through my heart?”

  “I didn’t have to make that choice. I’d much rather hold it tenderly to my own heart for the span of one natural human lifetime. I’ve tried it, and I can tell you living forever is more of a burden than a joy.”

  “You’re evading me. I need to know, Max.”

  Impassioned now, he caught her shoulders in his hands and pinioned her with his bright green gaze. “Could I have borne your blood on my hands and your scream as my last memory of you? Yes. Rather than see you become Sarina. Yes, Angel, I would have killed you if I had to. And then died by my own hand rather than live again with the knowledge that I’d failed the daughter as I’d failed the mother. Satisfied?” He released her, standing still, as if half expecting her to run screaming from the room.

  Instead, she nodded her head solemnly. “I thought so. And there’s something comforting in knowing that no matter what, you were strong enough to protect me, even at great cost to yourself. I love you, Max.”

  He went limp with relief, glad that at last, she understood. “In the end, Sarina had a tiny remnant of humanity left.. Enough for regret. I thank God every day that, with your help and Shelly’s, I was spared that terrible choice. Together, Angel mine, we ended the old Trelayne inheritance.”

  With a shake, as if just like that he cast aside the mantle of his bitter legacy, he pulled her into his arms with a lusty laugh. “Can you tell me, my dear wife, what my new inheritance will be?”

  Those green eyes had no wisp of shadow or despair any more.

  With wonder, Angel saw Maximillian Britton, Earl of Trelayne, as he had been before he took on the terrible burden of the Trelayne Inheritance. Joy filled her heart. He was handsome, so vibrant with life that she knew, since the temptress powers of the night were not hers, that he’d wrap her like string around his finger for all of their lives if she didn’t strengthen herself now with her logical mind.

  Archly, she turned her nose up at him. “I’m fatigued. We’ll work again on our heir tomorrow, or the next day, or perhaps the next.” She started for the door.

  He caught her from behind, lifting her into his arms. He moved toward the bed, kissing her with all the fire of the night and all the joy of the day.

  The day that now would always be theirs.

  “You are my blessing, Angel,” he whispered into her mouth. “And I will treasure you accordingly, for all the todays God allots to me.”

  Angel swallowed harshly, so touched her surprise was almost spoiled. She kissed him back, then whispered into his own mouth, “And I am ready to fulfill my duty, my very dear Earl. But…” She squirmed free and shrugged out of her thin robe, leaving it in a gleaming silk puddle about her feet. Her skin had the same luminous glow.

  With a sparkling look of mischief over her shoulder, temptingly naked, she ran into the sitting room.

  Eyes alight with the joy of the chase, the earl chased after his errant bride.

  Two steps into the room he froze. His mouth dropped open.

  His innocent, all-too-human bride had shocked him yet again. Or so he let her believe….

  In the middle of the sitting room sat her bright blue coffin. Plushly lined with white silk.

  She stood next to it, her hand out. “When we’re very old, and very tired, we can slee
p together in it and remember. Maybe they can even bury us together. By then we should be quite comfortable.”

  Ripping off his own clothes, he picked her up and dropped her inside, tackling her. “And what if I want to fulfill a fantasy instead, right this moment, when I’m still young and strong?”

  She pulled his head down to hers.

  Outside, the sun settled down for the night. And somewhere in the dark, vampires roamed in their eternal, lonely quest for surcease that proved ever more fleeting in their endless march of tomorrows.

  But in the suite of the Earl of Trelayne, life would always be a joyful today.

  And as they made love, candlelight gleamed on the motto that had brought them together and would keep them bonded through the rest of their lives. For now, through great cost, they finally understood its meaning.

  Tomorrow’s a gift, but today’s a blessing.

  And while he could still think, the Earl of Trelayne realized that, as usual, Angel was right and he was wrong.

  The joy of sex was all the more enticing in a coffin.

  And they fit perfectly. In every way….