With a final rude slurp, she set her glass down. Remembering the woman she had once been threatened to interfere with her digestion. The depths of depravity she had once heartlessly indulged in were totally inconceivable to her now.
“Gracias, señora,” Jonathan said. “Delicioso todo.”
Consuelo nodded once and began clearing the table.
“Let’s go to your room, Audrey.”
As she followed him obediently out of the kitchen, one of her hands in his, it occurred to her that she was behaving like a toddler, not speaking just eating, absorbed in thoughts composed primarily of images and doing what she was told when an adult spoke to her. Jonathan was an adult and the intelligence of her heart told her it had nothing to do with how old his current body was. Compared to him she was a child, and one reason she hadn’t grown up as fast as he had was because she had been so very bad in a former incarnation, maybe in more than one…
Whispers was sleeping on the bed, ecstatically stretched out in a shaft of sunlight, her collar shining as though made of infinitely priceless diamonds. Even when Jonathan sat down on the edge of the mattress and drew Audrey down onto his lap the cat didn’t wake, or at least she didn’t raise her head; a subtle tensing of her black body gave away the fact that she was aware of their presence, and that it had added considerably to the pleasure she was taking in the warmth and comfort enfolding her.
“You’ll be back to so-called normal soon enough, Audrey,” Jonathan said and began kissing her gently, slowly circling her tongue with his like an experienced dancer coaching an out of shape novice. She relaxed against him, moaning with pleasure at how safe she felt cradled in his arms and perched on his lap. Whatever faculties she had exercised during her journey through the Dragon’s Breath had burned out her libido for the time being. Moaning, she wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck, wanting to desire him again, wanting more than this comforting, fatherly, brotherly embrace.
“Easy,” he whispered.
Whispers sat up, her expression alert. Purposefully she licked her right paw three times and then walked across the bed toward them.
Audrey watched jealously as Jonathan stroked her. She felt her whole being pout and stamp its foot with the overriding need to feel his skin against hers, to see his naked body, all of it, all of him, now. She yanked open his coat and became even more frustrated by the black shirt obstructing her desire.
“Take this off!” she begged desperately. “I can’t wait anymore, I need to feel your body against mine, please.”
Whispers shot her a contemptuous look and jumped off the bed.
Jonathan chuckled. “She says you’re behaving like a spoiled puppy, Audrey.”
She snapped, “Oh, so you can hear animals talk as well?” insulted by how calm he was; by how indifferent he was to the intensity of her desire for him.
“They communicate without words, the way you and Merlin used to, and still do.”
She dared to look into his eyes. “Did you bring Merlin to visit me the other night in my dream?”
“You helped it happen, Audrey, by truly believing it was possible.”
Abruptly she remembered what Wilona had written just before she left, Faith is the key to all we desire.
“Jonathan, I have to tell you something.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Your mother contacted you.”
“How can you possibly know that?” She tried to push herself up off his lap but he held her down.
“I’m going with you, Audrey.”
She experienced a sensation akin to light suddenly flooding a dark room. She also felt like someone pathetically out of shape trying to run a marathon with an Olympic athlete. She was lagging behind, still trying to figure out how he even knew about the letter, not to mention the fact that she had agreed to leave with Falkon. “But… but she told me I couldn’t tell anyone. He… the man who delivered the letter, he won’t take me if-”
“I’ll follow you. You’ll appear to be alone, but you won’t be. You’ve never been alone and you never will be. But it doesn’t mean I can fight your battles for you. I can only help you, if you let me.”
She buried her face in the side of his neck and clung to him. “I don’t understand how you know about my mother’s letter, Jonathan, but I’ve been realizing lately there’s a lot I don’t understand yet… a lot I have a feeling or an intuition about that I can’t prove because I can never understand how it all really works…”
“It’s not as complicated as you think, my Lady. In fact, it’s sublimely simple. Just open your heart and your eyes, in that order.”
He lifted her up in his arms and spread her across the bed. “Dream, love,” he whispered, lightly brushing her lips with his.
⊕
After her cat nap, Audrey spent as long as she could in the shower. There was no sensation so relaxing and invigorating than extremely hot water beating on the back of her neck and rushing down her spine. Thoughts and feelings flowed through her freely as she stood with her head bent and her arms lightly embracing her torso, receiving the living blanket of water like a benediction. It was not lost on her that this powerful baptism was made possible by the wonders of modern plumbing, or that she was contributing to global warming by keeping the electric water heater on at full capacity for so long. She didn’t care. This was one guilty pleasure she wasn’t prepared to give up.
On this particular afternoon she was thinking about everything except the coming evening. She remembered an informal lecture her father had once given her regarding the sa hieroglyph, which meant “protection” and took the form of something resembling a blanket wrapped around the neck and crossed over the chest. It was worn by both men and valuable animals. Apparently the ancient Egyptians had believed the neck was where the life-force—the Ka as they called it—entered the body through the complex paths of nerves located at the apex of the spine. It was no wonder then that standing in a hot shower felt so divine. Perhaps it afforded her a glimpse of what it might feel like when she sloughed off her corporeal cells and returned to the cosmic womb.
Reluctantly, she shut off the water, stepped out of the lion-paw tub and wrapped herself in a plush white towel. The mirror over the sink was fogged up and as she waited for it to clear she watched individual water drops make their way down the glass in snake-like trails with varying degrees of urgency. Indeed, they very much resembled tiny serpent heads wriggling purposefully downward. She had read somewhere that the veil between the worlds was woven of serpents which both protected and destroyed…
The sobering thought roused her from her reverie. Jonathan had entered her life just before she received the earth-shattering letter from Wilona. The two events felt suspiciously related and yet they couldn’t be; it was merely coincidence he had returned home from Afghanistan just in time to protect her from another man… the man sent by her mother. But like Consuelo, she had never really believed in coincidence, although of course not believing in the theory of chance was an oxymoron—if all was chance beliefs were essentially meaningless. All that remained were facts, meaning those facts that could be observed with the senses or were measurable by current scientific standards. God only knew what instruments mankind would devise in the future that would be able to detect what nowadays was swept beneath the carpet under the labels of imagination, magical, paranormal, etc. There was no way she could prove the veracity of what she had experienced earlier today staring into Jonathan’s eyes, but it had certainly looked and felt real enough.
The vintage blue suitcase she had brought down from the attic was sitting open on her bed. It was empty except for Whispers, who was contentedly sleeping in it.
“You silly kitty,” she said fondly even though there was actually nothing silly about her when you thought about it. Her feline knew what she liked and what she wanted and thoroughly enjoyed herself every chance she got.
She had already decided what to wear—a black cashmere dress with a moc
k turtleneck, shimmering violet thigh-high stockings and her favorite black leather boots that zipped up to just below her knees. The outfit felt right and her light-green scarab would stand out vividly. To the ancient Egyptians the color black, kem, was pure power, the void from which the known universe emerged. Violet had always been her favorite color, her soul seemed to expand when she looked at it, the final color on the visible spectrum. She wanted that color enveloping and protecting her tonight when she stepped off the spectrum of her safe and comfortable life into a perilous unknown. Jonathan had confirmed what her body had already told her—she was going to have to fight a battle with herself. She couldn’t even think about the man who was picking her up in less than an hour without feeling weak.
She had no idea what to pack or how much. How far were they going? How long would she be gone? At least she didn’t doubt Jonathan’s ability to follow them. This “mission” had to be, as the expression went, “a piece of cake” for him. Once more she wondered what he had done in Iraq and Afghanistan and whether or not he would ever tell her.
“Whispers, love, I’m afraid you have to find another boudoir. I need to pack.”
The cat ignored her, although the way her ears twitched indicated she had registered the sound of a voice.
Audrey scooped her up and set her down on the bed.
Whispers stood staring straight ahead of her for a long moment as she got her bearings and decided what to do now that her nap had been so rudely interrupted. She decided it was a good time to simply sit down and take a bath, in between watching her pet human walking back and forth from the closet folding intriguing, and very comfortable looking, materials into her favorite new bed.
Black yoga pants and thigh-length sweaters followed a few more casual dresses and a pair of black leather walking shoes, joined a few minutes later by black high-heels and a sexy red evening dress. She tried resisting the urge to pack these last two items but it was useless. The truth was she was anticipating the chance to look beautiful for Falkon. Consuelo was right, he couldn’t be trusted, he even frightened her, and yet she desired to please him; her pride demanded it. It didn’t matter that she was falling in love with Jonathan, if she wasn’t already in love with him. Darlene and Consuelo were both clearly smitten with him as well. She understood why Consuelo liked him, because she believed he could protect her little girl, but she didn’t have a clue why Darlene had taken such a fancy to him. From the very first she had deferred to him and he had seemed to find it perfectly natural. Perhaps it was their innate breeding that was in such rapport, but if that was the case the housekeeper would have asked him to wait in the drawing room this morning when he came to see the lady of the house. Instead she had invited him into her private office, for all the world as though they had some business matter to discuss. It made no sense and she didn’t have time to think about it now. She had informed Darlene a car was picking her up and driving her to London for a few days. Only Consuelo and Jonathan knew the truth. At least she didn’t have to suffer through tea with her father before leaving, swallowing her secret with every sip and trying not to choke on her watercress sandwich or the knowledge the woman he still loved had betrayed him and done absolutely nothing to assuage his suffering for twenty-two years. Stuart had opted to take tea in his room that evening. It was a double-edged blessing because she would be leaving home worried about her father’s health. Yet the sooner she got this over with the sooner she could come home and take care of the one parent who truly loved her.
She sat down at her vanity and began making herself up with a grim determination, as though she was applying war paint. She always felt stronger when she looked as lovely as possible. She would never be able to think of herself as beautiful again, not after seeing that woman in the fire lit room…
And someone wants her back.
She brushed her hair, which normally seemed so soft and full, its dark-brown depths shimmering with auburn highlights, but this evening it looked thin and drab compared to the pitch-black luster of that other woman’s long curling locks…
She dropped the brush, stood up, shoved her make-up purse into the suitcase and snapped it shut. “This is it, Whispers. I’m off.”
Her cat brushed up against her and then stared up at her face, her eyes half closed, as though she was urgently trying to communicate something.
“Don’t worry. Jonathan is secretly coming with me.”
As though reassured, Whispers sat down again but she still seemed to be staring at something visible only to her, and it wasn’t clear whether the object of her attention occupied this dimension or another one only her feline perceptions were able to register.
Audrey butted her forehead against the cat’s, hung her purse on her shoulder, picked up the suitcase, and with one last look around the room in which she had slept most of her life, walked away.
⊕
Subtle audible clues told her that outside the wind was picking up—branches scratching against window panes, an isolated gust moaning where it was trapped high up in one of the numerous chimneys. She found herself able to breathe more deeply as the atmosphere shared—and thereby mysteriously reflected—some of the tense excitement she was feeling. A quick glance out at the front drive told her the fog which had obscured the world all day long had been blown away by the restless wind. A few bright stars glittered sharply above the trees. She stood in the shadowy entrance hall already wearing her coat, her head and hair protected by a soft black cashmere hat, her hands by black leather gloves. The suitcase sitting beside her was so blue it took on the appearance of something much more than what it was… it was a piece of the sky belonging entirely to her filled with all her most important thoughts and feelings, concepts and beliefs, hopes and dreams. It was a portable little mausoleum in which were neatly folded all the people she had been and she herself, the figure in black rising above them, was her eternal Self, its creative powers pumping through her heart’s four magical gateways open to forces being channeled into the creation of the physical world and the current body in which she breathed and lived…
She glanced down at her watch. It was six o’clock. She looked back outside. There was suddenly a long black car in the drive. It was impossible it could have pulled up so swiftly but there was no doubt it was there now. She couldn’t move. Nobody stepped out of the limousine. It seemed to be waiting and she suffered the impression it would remain there all night if necessary. Abruptly realizing she was holding her breath, she inhaled and exhaled slowly through her nose, making an effort to relax. And then—just beyond the limo at the edge of the woods—she discerned two intent reflective eyes, the same unnerving wild animals eyes she had seen watching her from the darkness the night she came home from the wine bar in Chelmsford. It was odd how they had frightened her then and inexplicably reassured her now. She picked up her suitcase, opened the door and stepped outside.
The strong wind whipped the ends of her hair across her face as she saw a door at the rear of the limo open slowly, almost as though sensing and responding to her presence. She couldn’t believe what she was doing. It wasn’t too late to turn around, to step back inside, lock the door behind her and run to her father, who loved her and would protect her. She didn’t have to do this. She didn’t need to go anywhere. To hell with her mother and the truth…
A voice said “Allow me” and the suitcase was taken from her. Forgetting to breathe again, she watched a man’s tall impenetrable silhouette walk away with her possessions and disappear around the car. That one door remained open, silently commanding her toward it. The wind was blowing so hard it buffeted her like waves and she suffered the impression she was surrendering to a dangerous undertow. She had almost reached the car when a long-fingered hand reached slowly out for her. Instinctively she recoiled from touching something as pale as seaweed growing at the bottom of the ocean in a place where sunlight never penetrated and blind creatures fed on each other. Then the queer impression vanished and she saw only a man’s elegant hand wel
coming her, a hand belonging to a man of leisure, to an irresistibly intriguing man her mother trusted and her father had corresponded with for years. There was nothing to be afraid of. In fact, there was so much to be excited about! She slipped her hand into his and climbed into the limousine’s luxurious darkness.
Chapter Nine
The limousine was seductively comfortable but Audrey couldn’t relax against the leather seat. On one level she felt guilty about riding in such an environmentally unfriendly vehicle although, admittedly, that was the least of her concerns at the moment. The principal cause of the awkward discomfort she was suffering from was the man seated across from her. He looked unnaturally far away; the bowels of the expensive car were remarkably spacious. And because dark curtains were pulled closed over the windows there was nothing she could really look at except her exceedingly attractive host.
“Well, she of noble strength,” he said in the perfectly pitched voice that resounded deep in her pelvis, “good and powerful one, welcome.”
For an instant she was confused until she realized he was referring to the Old English version of her name, Aethelthryth Godric. She said, “Is that what first sparked your interest in Constantinople and the Byzantine Empire, the fact that your parents named you Falkon?” grateful to have the trail of a conversation to follow as she glanced around her, avoiding his eyes.
Eternal Blood - Books 1-3 Wolf Shield, Sword of the Blood, Vampire Bride Page 8
