Midnight Embrace

by Amanda Ashley

  She moved toward the fireplace, stepped up on the hearth, and put her back to the door.

  How long had he been gone? It seemed like hours, though it couldn't have been more than a minute or two.

  And suddenly he was there, his arms wrapping around her, holding her close. Before she realized they were moving, they were outside. Mrs. Thornfield lay on the grass several yards away from the house, pale and unmoving.

  Still holding Analisa, Alesandro bent down and lifted the other woman over his shoulder, and then they were hurtling through the night.

  The next thing Analisa knew, they were inside the stone cottage. The door closed quietly behind them, sealing them in darkness.

  In his room below stairs, Alesandro set Analisa on her feet, then laid Mrs. Thornfield on his bed.

  "Is she going to be all right?" Analisa asked.

  He shrugged, his expression troubled. "That will be up to her."

  "Maybe we acted hastily," Analisa remarked. "Maybe we should have asked her if it was what she wanted."

  "There was no time," he replied. "Come, I will take you home."

  "I want to stay here, with you."

  "No, 'Lisa. You do not want to be here when she wakes."

  "Can't you bring her to the house, then? So we can all be together?"

  "No. It is not wise for her to be near mortals when the transformation takes place. It will be difficult for her. And if I have made a mistake in bringing her across…" His words trailed off, but she knew what he had left unsaid. If the housekeeper didn't want to be a vampire, he would destroy her.

  He covered the housekeeper with a blanket, then gathered Analisa into his arms.

  Moments later, they were in his bedchamber. "I want you to stay here tonight. Lock the door and let no one in. I will come to you as soon as I can."

  She nodded.

  "Will you be all right, 'Lisa?"

  She nodded again, afraid to speak for fear she would throw her arms around his neck and beg him not to go.

  "Do not be afraid."

  He gazed down at her, his expression filled with love and tenderness, yet, for an instant, she saw him as she had seen him earlier, his eyes blazing, his fangs stained with blood as he fought with Rodrigo, saw him bending over Mrs. Thornfield's neck…

  " 'Lisa?"

  "I'll be all right," she said. "You'd better go."

  He looked at her for several moments, then vanished from her sight.

  She stood there a minute; then, feeling chilled, she climbed into his bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.

  Sleep was a long time coming.

  She dreamed of blood… a surging river of blood… and swimming in the river she saw Alesandro and Rodrigo and Mrs. Thornfield, all struggling to stay afloat. She saw Rodrigo go under, and then Mrs. Thornfield. Standing on the shore, she reached out to Alesandro, knowing that only she could save him. He caught her hand. And pulled her in. And under…

  She woke gasping for air, the taste of blood lingering on her lips.

  Flinging off the covers, she unlocked the door and ran out of the room. Needing to see the sun, to feel its warmth on her skin, she ran down the hallway and out of the house.

  Outside, she lifted her face toward the rising sun, basking in its light.

  A warmth, a light, that Mrs. Thornfield would never see again.

  Sinking down on her knees, Analisa buried her face in her hands. What was she doing here? How could she be in love with a vampire? All these months she had known what he was, or thought she knew. But last night… last night it was as if someone had removed the blinders from her eyes and she had seen him for the first time, not as the man who had saved her life. Not as the man she loved. But as a vampire. He had told her he was capable of killing. Last night, she had seen death in his eyes. She had watched him fight with Rodrigo, had felt his anger, his power, and it had been a terrible, frightening thing to see. She had seen the blood lust in his eyes when he bent over Mrs. Thornfield.

  But he could be kind. And gentle. She knew that as well. He had made love to her so tenderly, showered her with gifts, confessed his love and his need. Taken her into his home…

  To have a ready source of blood.

  But that had been in the beginning.

  And now?

  Rising, she began to walk through the gardens. What about now? She couldn't believe that his love-making had been a lie, that all his words had been nothing more than a way to keep her here. He had survived four hundred years without her.

  She walked for an hour, lost in thought, wondering how she would explain Mrs. Thornfield's absence. Returning to the house, she found Frannie, Dewhurst, and Cook in the parlor. They all looked up when she entered the room.

  "Oh, Miss Matthews," Frannie said, "we've been so worried!"

  "Worried? Why?"

  "The carriage came back last night empty," Dewhurst said. "We didn't know what had happened to you and the others."

  "Are you all right, miss?" Frannie asked.

  "Yes, yes, I'm fine."

  "What happened last night?" Dewhurst asked. "Where are Mrs. Thornfield and Farleigh?"

  "I… we had some trouble on the road," Analisa replied, thinking fast. "Robbers. Farleigh was killed—"

  "Killed!" Dewhurst exclaimed.

  Analisa nodded. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know the two of you were very close."

  Dewhurst sank down on a chair, too shocked to be mindful of proper behavior.

  "What of Mrs. Thornfield?" Frannie asked, her voice subdued.

  "She was injured. The horses bolted, so I had to find another carriage to bring me home." She glanced from Dewhurst to her maid. "I'm sorry I didn't wake either of you when I returned, but it was very late."

  "And where is Mrs. Thornfield now?" Dewhurst asked.

  "Lord Alesandro showed up soon after the accident. He took her to the hospital."

  "Will she be all right?" Frannie asked.

  "I don't know," Analisa said, glad to be able to speak the truth at last.

  "Will you be wanting breakfast?" inquired Cook.

  "No, thank you." She couldn't eat, not after last night. "But I would like a cup of tea."

  "Very well, miss. I'm glad you're home safe," he said, and left the room, obviously anxious to have something to do.

  "Frannie, would you draw me a bath, please, and lay out my clothing for the day?" It felt good to be thinking of mundane things. It helped to hold the horror of the past night away.

  "Yes, miss."

  "I'm glad you weren't hurt, miss," the groom said, rising.

  "Thank you, Dewhurst."

  "Will you be wanting to visit Mrs. Thornfield later?" he asked.

  "I… yes, of course. That is, the doctor said she wasn't to have any visitors just now."

  "Very well, miss." Dewhurst looked at her oddly a moment, then left the room.

  Analisa stared after them. They would think it strange if she didn't go and visit the housekeeper, and stranger still if Mrs. Thornfield never returned. And she couldn't return, Analisa realized. The master of the house might be allowed his eccentricities; the staff might whisper among themselves and think it strange that he kept such unusual hours, but they would not accept the same from a housekeeper.

  Analisa sighed. Poor Mrs. Thornfield. She had been with Alesandro for so many years, but that was ended now. She recalled Alesandro saying that vampires could not share the same territory; certainly they could not share the same house without arousing suspicion.

  It was a problem that was beyond her ability to solve, at least at the moment.

  Feeling a headache coming on, she went upstairs, hoping a bath and a change of clothes would make her feel better.

  The day seemed to stretch endlessly before her. The house felt empty and was far too quiet. She tried to keep busy, tried to read, to sew. She went outside and sat in the sun. But try as she might, she could not stop thinking of Mrs. Thornfield. How had she reacted when she discovered what Alesandro had done? Was she
relieved to still be alive? Or horrified to learn she was now a vampire? Would Alesandro stay with her, teach her what she needed to know? Or drive her out of his territory? Somehow, try as she might, she could not picture Mrs. Thornfield prowling through the night, stalking some helpless mortal, drinking her victim's blood. The mere idea filled her with revulsion. How did Alesandro bear it?

  And what of Rodrigo? She had thought, had hoped, that he was dead, but he was the only one who could have set fire to the house. Where was he now?

  That thought grew more and more worrisome as night spread its cloak over the land.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Thwarted again! It was beyond endurance. Damn Alesandro. And damn the woman! Damn them all!

  Muttering an oath, Rodrigo stormed through the night, his rage growing, gathering like the dark clouds scudding across the sky. He had been so close, so certain he was about to have the revenge he craved. How had it all gone wrong?

  He lifted a hand to his chest where Alesandro had stabbed him with a rusty knife. Had the other vampire's aim been better, he might be dead now. As it was, he had barely managed to escape. It galled him to know that, had Alesandro pursued him instead of going back to look after the women, he would most certainly be dead, his body moldering in the bowels of his house.

  And where was the good doctor now?

  Rodrigo paused. Lifted his head to sniff the air. The scent of cheap perfume was borne to him on the wind. A prostitute was plying her trade nearby. He smiled. Little did she know her next customer would be her last.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Alesandro stood beside his bed in his chamber at Blackbriar Hall. He had brought Elisabeth here as soon as the sun had set. No one save Analisa knew of his lair in the stone cottage. It was knowledge he would not share with anyone else, not even his trusted housekeeper.

  Now he waited. Soon, Elisabeth would awake to find herself a changed creature. Would she hate him for what he had done? Embrace her new life? Or ask him to end her existence as a vampire before it had even begun?

  She lay on his bed unmoving, still caught in the death-like sleep that held all vampires in its grasp from sunrise to sunset. She had died the night before; would she remember the horror of it, he wondered, or had the memory been mercifully blotted from her mind?

  He had lit several candles in hopes the light would somehow make things easier for her. He wondered again if she would recall the night past. Rodrigo's memory of that fateful night so long ago had been hazy upon waking the next night. He recalled little save that he had followed a beautiful woman and awakened forever changed. Alesandro wished he had been so blessed. He recalled it all so clearly even now: his terror at Tzianne's vicious attack, his horror as he endured mortal death, alive yet not alive, not knowing he would rise the next night. His confusion when he realized what had happened to him, his refusal to believe it, the lethargy that had engulfed him, the pain of the sun scorching preternatural flesh while he hastened to find a place to hide…

  Elisabeth woke abruptly. Bolting into an upright position, she glanced anxiously around the room.

  "It is all right, Elisabeth. There is nothing to fear."

  She swung her head around to face him. "Where are we?" She glanced around the room, frowning in recognition. "Blackbriar? How did I get here?"

  He moved toward the bed and took her hand in his. "All in good time, Elisabeth. How do you feel?"

  She blinked up at him, as if puzzled by his question. "I feel…" She frowned. "I feel very well. But I shouldn't, should I? Why are you looking at me like that?" She glanced around the room, as if she might find the answer to her question lurking in a corner. "Why does everything look so different? Your cloak… I can see every stitch, every thread. The sun just went down, didn't it? I can smell the night…"

  She took hold of his arm, her eyes widening, the pulse in her throat beating rapidly. "Alesandro!"

  "Elisabeth." He sat down on the edge of the bed and drew her into his arms. "What do you remember of yesterday and last night?"

  She frowned again. "We went into the city. Analisa bought a gown for the wedding…" Her eyes widened. "Our coach was attacked. They killed Farleigh and took us to… Rodrigo! Rodrigo was there. What has he done to Analisa?"

  "Analisa is at the townhouse. She is unhurt."

  "Thank the Lord."

  "Is that all you remember?"

  "I think so… No!" Her hand flew to her throat. "Rodrigo! He bit me. Drank from me!" She shuddered, remembering the horror of it, the pain of it. "How did I get here? Where is that fiend now?"

  "I found you and Analisa at his house," Alesandro replied. "You were very near death. I would have taken you to the hospital, but there was no time."

  Her gaze met his, and in the depths of his eyes she found the answer she was looking for.

  Slowly she shook her head, her eyes filled with horror. "No. No, tell me you did not?"

  "I could not let you die when I had the power to save you."

  "How could you?" Her fingers searched her throat. "You had no right to… to make me what you are." Pushing against his chest, she stood. "I can't be a vampire. I don't want to be a vampire!" She whirled around to face him. "Undo it, now!"

  "I cannot, Elisabeth. You know that."

  She doubled over, her arms wrapped around her stomach, a low, keening wail of pain issuing from her lips as the hunger made itself known.

  "I remember now," she gasped. "I remember it all." She lifted her head, her gaze piercing his. "Help me!"

  "You need to feed, Elisabeth."

  "No!" She shook her head. "No, I couldn't. I can't."

  But he could see the hunger in her eyes, the growing need. He recalled his own revulsion at the thought of needing blood to survive when he had been a new vampire, but it had merely been a holdover from his old life, a taboo that no longer had any meaning. He was a vampire. Taking blood was natural for him. It would be for her, too, once she got past her initial revulsion.

  "Come," he said, taking her by the hand. "Let me show you the beauty of the night."

  Analisa couldn't sit still. She tried to read, but, for once, books held no appeal. She picked up her embroidery, only to put it down after a few minutes. She nibbled on a bit of pudding, but had no appetite. She picked up her shawl, intending to go for a walk in the gardens, but thoughts of Rodrigo prowling the shadows quickly changed her mind. Dropping her shawl on the back of a chair, she wandered through the house, finally ending up in Alesandro's room. Sitting on the bed, she hugged his pillow to her chest. Where was he? Why didn't he come to her? Surely he knew how anxious she must be for news of how Mrs. Thornfield was adjusting to her new life.

  Once again, Analisa tried to imagine Mrs. Thornfield as a vampire… tried to imagine herself as a vampire, forced to spend her days trapped in a deathlike sleep, forced to forever shun the daylight, to dine on blood. Given a choice between death and becoming a vampire, which would she choose? For the first time, it occurred to her that if she were a vampire, she could be young forever, live with Alesandro, forever.

  She fell asleep with that intriguing thought.

  Alesandro smiled at Elisabeth. "You see? It was not so bad, was it?"

  Elisabeth looked up at him, her gray eyes shining. He had taught her to hunt, shown her how to feed, how to erase from the mind of her prey any memory of her feeding.

  After she had fed, he had shown her the beauty of the night. With her vampire eyes and ears, she saw details and heard sounds mortals never saw, never heard. When she walked, it was as if her feet never touched the ground.

  "Not so bad as I thought it would be, at least," she replied. She twirled around, her arms extended, her head back, the sound of her laughter floating on the wings of the night. "I feel so young! So strong. As if I could fly."

  He laughed with her. For all that he lamented his lost mortality and despised the necessity of taking blood to survive, being a vampire had its rewards. Et
ernal youth. Eternal health. Supernatural powers. And time. The greatest gift of all.

  Though he was not certain of Elisabeth's age, he knew she had to be in her sixties, though she looked much younger thanks to the small amounts of blood he had given her in the past. Now, infused with the full preternatural glamour of the Dark Gift, she looked younger still. Her hair glowed with vibrant health, as did her skin.

  She put her hand on his arm to steady herself. "I haven't done that in more years than I can remember," she remarked, grinning.

  He looked down at her, his smile fading as the expression on her face turned from exuberance to contemplation to desire.

  "I have loved you most of my life," she said quietly. "I watched you stay young while I grew old, and still I loved you. I love you now."

  "Elisabeth—"

  "I knew there was no hope for us before, that you did not love me as I loved you, but now we're alike, Alesandro. I can share your life in ways that she never can."

  "Elisabeth, I am in love with Analisa.

  "But I loved you first!"

  "I care for you. I always have, and that has not changed. But I am going to marry Analisa, if she will still have me. And you will not harm her in any way, do you understand?"

  "And what am I to do?" she asked bitterly. "Where am I to go? Because of what you've done, I can't stay here, or go back to the Manor, or to Blackbriar."

  "I have a large house in Milano. It is yours, and the income from the winery that goes with it."

  "So far away?"

  "We cannot hunt the same territory. It is not wise, or safe. In time you will learn that vampires are very territorial about their hunting grounds."

  "What of Rodrigo?"

  "He is a danger to all of us. You would be wise to stay out of his way." Alesandro glanced up at the sky. It would be dawn in a few hours. "You must find a secure place to spend the day."

  "Where shall I go?"

  He shook his head. "That is something you must decide. Never tell anyone where you sleep. Trust no one with that knowledge. Not me, not anyone. Do you understand?"