by Of Night
“Richelle?”
“Oh…I’m sorry. What?”
“Would you like some?” He held the glass out to her. Hesitantly, she accepted the glass and took a small sip. When she handed the glass back to him, he turned it and without taking his eyes off her, he drank from the same side her lips had touched.
She was an ingénue, inexperienced in the ways of seduction between a man and a woman. She couldn’t think of anything to say. She had things she wanted to say to him when she was in the bathroom, but they had flown out of her head as she watched Valya’s sensual lips touch the rim of his glass to drink his wine.
“I thought Vampyres, I mean Immortals, only drank blood.” She took the seat next to him, watching her hands as she nervously played with the long drape of her robe sash.
“We enjoy food and wine for the taste, but we can only get nourishment from taking blood.”
“So, did you?” She didn’t want to bluntly ask if he had gone out and hunted, taken blood from some faceless person. She hoped she would never have to hunt. She didn’t think she could hurt someone like that.
“Yes. And to put your mind at ease, I did not hurt them.”
“Them?”
“A man and woman. Affianced.”
“Oh, Valya.” Concern laced her voice. “Are you sure they’re all right?”
“Yes, sweeting. Do not be afraid. They’re perfectly fine. They are enjoying coffee and dessert at the corner café.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, they won’t even remember what happened. I was very careful, as careful as I was with your wolf friend.”
She sighed in relief. She didn’t like the idea of anyone getting hurt so someone else could live.
“Tell me, Richelle. Does it repel you to think Immortals drink blood to survive?” He held his breath, waiting for her answer.
“Well, not really. I mean, it’s your nature. I just don’t like the idea of anyone getting hurt.”
“Remember that. It’s our nature. Immortals are not Vampyres. We take great care to not hurt a person when we are feeding. Much like some Wicca honor Mother Earth for their sustenance, whether it’s flora or fauna. Do no harm, and all that.”
“You studied Wicca.” More a statement than a question, she was still surprised.
“I have studied many things, from music and art to strategy and weapons. Maybe I will teach you.”
“I’d like that. I love art. I went to the Detroit Institute of Art with my mother before she died. I always wanted to learn how to draw.”
“If you’d like,” he paused to clear his throat, “we could go to the DIA tonight. They have a special exhibit of paintings this week.”
Cocking a brow, she looked at him suspiciously. “Are you asking me out?”
Valya coughed and sputtered. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
“I don’t know.” She was hesitant to say yes. The thought of going out in public, around other people. Yes, the continuous voices had stilled…for the moment. What if they came back while they were on a “date”?
“You’re broadcasting again.”
“What?”
“You’re worried about being in public—hearing voices, sensing feelings.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“I will teach you how to build walls around your mind.”
She eyed him for a moment or two. If she learned how to control her gift she could go out in public and not worry about feeling pain. Yes, she would go out with Valya. She’d love to see the exhibit at the DIA, but not tonight. Tonight, she wanted to run and jump and shout. And you couldn’t do those things in a stuffy art museum.
“Perhaps another night.”
“Oh.” His dejected tone brought a slight smile to her lips. He really wanted to do something for her, to do something she wanted to do. And there was one thing she had always wanted to do.
“What I mean is, I don’t want to go to the museum. Can we still go out tonight?”
He smiled broadly, his eyes dancing with the possibilities of where they could go and what they could do.
“Anywhere you’d like.” His voice cracked excitedly. “We could go dancing at DB Coopers, or have dinner at Memphis Blues and listen to the band.”
“No. There is one thing I’ve always wanted to do. I asked my mother once, but she told me it was too dangerous. And then there were too many people. But with you, I think I’d be safe.”
Valya puffed up but was humbled by her trust, a trust he was sure never given considering her bleak existence.
“Tell me. Where would you like to go?”
“I want to go to a carnival.”
Chapter 5
Valya wasn’t sure if taking Richelle to the carnival was the best idea, but she seemed so excited to go. And all his worries were soon allayed by the sheer joy she exuded at the novelty of all she was experiencing. Like a child at a circus, she ooohed and aaahed at the bright lights, loud music, and carnival food surrounding her.
He almost laughed when she dragged him to a shooting gallery. He had never picked up a gun. With the strength and skill of an Immortal coursing through his veins, there was never a need. The forged metal and carved wood mass felt strange in his hands. He grew impatient at his first few feeble attempts, missing his targets. He became irked at Richelle’s snickers and the barker’s chant of “better luck next time.”
But he knew what Richelle would want and nothing was going to stop him from giving it to her. With a wicked grin, he took careful aim, and without so much as batting an eye, he knocked down the targets in smooth succession. Laying the rifle on the counter, he turned to see the barker staring slack-jawed at him.
“I believe that makes me a winner,” he idly remarked.
The barker had to blink and shake his head a few times before responding.
“We have a winner,” he announced, reaching overhead to one of the stuffed cats hanging above. “A sweet little cat for a sweet little lady.” Richelle’s smile faded as she limply reached out for the prize.
“No,” Valya corrected. “That’s not what she wants.” Turning and smiling at her, he paused expectantly. “That one,” he stated as he raised a hand and pointed at a snowy white wolf with blue eyes. She smiled widely when the barker took down the toy and handed it to her. She held it gingerly, running her fingertips softly over the fur, the muzzle, and the ears before she hugged it to her chest. A happy tear trailed down her cheek as she rocked and hugged the toy wolf closer.
“Molly.”
Valya watched her lavish such emotions on Molly, and his outrage escalated. It tore at him to see her weep even if they were joyous tears. Molly was more than a toy wolf—she was a physical bond to Adelaide. He remembered how Richelle as a child clung to her wolf as he carried her away.
He wasn’t able to stop the Believers from destroying her home and belongings. All he could do was to protect her, hide her away from them until he could teach her how to use her gifts to sense danger for herself. He would teach her the ways of the Immortals so she could protect herself. Until she accepted him as her life mate, he would not leave her side. She would never be unprotected again.
He himself had never known the solace to be found with a childhood toy, but then again, he was never truly a child. He had been born an Immortal, a Guardian. And from the time of his birth, he had been raised with the knowledge and gifts of a Guardian. He had always borne the weight of good versus evil on his shoulders, knowing that his destiny was honor or death.
But Richelle had been a child, an innocent. She knew nothing of the harsh realities of life, of the evil that existed for the sole purpose of destroying the good of the world. Her life should have been filled with laughter and gaiety. Instead, all she knew were secrets and death. He could not take away the pain of her loss, and her pain was his.
But the delight he saw in her laughter through tears mended his torn soul and withered spirit. Then she looked up at him, her tear-rimmed eyes filled with an adoration that fill
ed him completely with emotions he could not define. It was more than devotion, more than love. He knew that this was the woman he had waited centuries for and would spend eternity with. Her life was his but more so, his life was hers, ’til the end of their days together.
It was Richelle who took the first few steps toward Valya. Up until now, it was always he who approached her. His heart swelled as she neared him, the thrumming of her heartbeat as intoxicating as her scent. His nostrils flared and inhaled her body’s perfume, cutting through the myriad scents from the carnival surrounding them. The expression on her face was mesmerizing. It made no difference how many people were around them. She was the only one he saw, the only one who mattered.
She stood before him, still cuddling the wolf to her heart. She leaned down and rubbed her cheek against the soft fur, the ears brushing against her skin, before turning back to stare into his dark eyes. They were dark with desire, each holding a golden flame in the center as he watched her.
“For a moment, I didn’t think you would truly know what I wanted.”
He stood motionless as he listened to the words echoing the uncertain feelings tying her in knots he sensed. She was afraid to trust and to love. But when he claimed her, she would never again be afraid. She would know that she was loved above all others for eternity.
Tentatively, she placed her hand upon his chest and took a step closer. It burned, branding him as hers. He struggled to breathe at the nearness of her, as she leaned in until she was a kiss away from his lips. Her words were feathery when she spoke.
“I should never have doubted you. I will never doubt you again.” She closed the hairsbreadth space to kiss his lips. Soft as rose petals, her lips slid over his in a sweet promise. He stood, fighting the ancient power coursing through his blood demanding that he take her from this place now and claim her as his life mate.
As she pulled away from him, he had to tamp down the beast roaring to be released and assert his dominance. But he could not fight the genetics of his race—his canines elongated. His lips pulled back in an unpremeditated hiss, flashing the gleaming white of his fangs assured to instill fear in his enemies.
But not in Richelle. She didn’t flinch or back away. She stood and watched him as if spellbound. Taking his hand, she stepped closer, showing no fear as his Immortal nature emerged. She pressed against him, leaning in to kiss him again. She let the tip of her tongue trace over the length of his canines. He stopped breathing altogether at her actions. This time, she showed no fear.
Oh, how he wanted to take control of her kiss, to dominate, to mark her. He wanted to take her to her knees, fuck and feed from her as all Immortals took their life mates. But he would not…not yet. Despite the fact that his body was hard and ready, she was not. He would not take her virginity that way. He would take things slow, until she came to him with no dread and absolute trust. Then he would show her how an Immortal was meant to love a woman…his woman.
She broke her kiss away and slipped her arm around his. She leaned her head against his shoulder as they leisurely strolled through the crowds.
* * * *
A set of malicious eyes hidden in the shadows glowed red with rage. He watched as Valya and Richelle strolled down the corridor. A low growl rumbled from his chest as he watched them turn a corner. He stepped out into the corridor, bumping into a rather burly rube. The stranger recognized him as the man depicted on the posters about the carnival—Big Huey, Strongest Man in the World
“Hey! Watch where ya goin’, bud!” he said gruffly, “or someone’s gonna get hurt.” Big Huey flexed his pectorals. Both men were of the same height, but Big Huey outweighed his unintended challenger by at least seventy pounds.
It didn’t make a difference. The stranger sneered insidiously.
“Maybe it will be you.”
The singsong quality of his voice was the direct opposite of his malevolent intent as he took a finger and pushed the behemoth lightly on the shoulder.
* * * *
Big Huey groaned. It felt like a dagger slicing into his skin, hitting his shoulder blade. It took all the strength he had not to fall to his knees as he was moved out of the way and the stranger passed. He gripped his shoulder and turned quickly, trying to see what direction he went.
Gone. There was no sign of him. He straightened up and rolled his shoulders back, relieving some of the burning.
Now the bastard had made him mad. He turned and started down the corridor, looking between the booths and tents. I’m gonna find that bastard, and when I do, I’m gonna make him sorry for ever crossing Big Huey.
* * * *
Richelle couldn’t believe the ease she felt being with Valya. Before he came into her life, there was no way she could attend a carnival. She would have been overpowered with all the thoughts and emotions running rampant, the strength of which could kill her. But not only was she able to block out the feelings of others, she found herself very relaxed, almost serene, walking through the crowds of people.
In teaching her to control her telepathic and empathetic gifts, Valya had opened a new world to her, one of excitement and freedom and love. She did not have to hide away from other people, to hide from the unbidden pain of their thoughts and emotions closing in on her, suffocating her with their presence. In opening the door to that world, she was also able to open her heart to all the experiences that she had seen others enjoy from a distance.
She could be normal.
She could be happy.
She, finally, could be free.
Gripping Valya’s forearm a bit tighter, she burrowed closer into his side, rubbing her head against his chest, loving the way the silky fabric of his shirt caressed her cheek. He turned his head to gaze at her. He clasped her hand as he held her firmly against him. She felt no fear. In fact, she felt empowered. Here was a being, a man, a Guardian of all good. He had seen the world age and change over the centuries. He had seen and done things she could only dream of. He held the power and wisdom of the world in one hand, and her heart in the other. He had entered her dreams to become her reality, a reality that celebrated the night instead of hiding within it. She inhaled deeply, intoxicated by his uniquely masculine smell. But she also was enticed by another scent, just as intoxicating, but sweeter. “Mmm.”
Valya grinned at her murmur of glee, sensing her delight at the scents of caramel, sugar, and apples.
“Would you care for one?”
“Yes, please. It smells so wonderful.”
He laughed at the excitement and enthusiasm in her voice. “Wait here for me.” He disengaged her arm and headed over to the stand.
Richelle looked around at the different attractions, idly stroking the fur of her new wolf. She couldn’t help herself, she couldn’t stop smiling. The emotions were so overwhelming, but in a good way. She never imagined it could be like this. To be in a crowd of people and still feel like they were the only two people on earth.
But they weren’t alone. Richelle heard something.
At first it sounded like a bee buzzing, but then she heard the soft murmuring.
“Richelle, come to me.”
She looked about, trying to get a bead on where the voice was coming from.
“Richelle, come to me.”
The voice was husky, cracked. She didn’t recognize it, but it became clearer as it called to her. It was an old woman.
“Richelle, come to me. I have a gift.”
She looked to the left and there, just off the midway, was a solitary tent. It was dark with navy blue curtains decorated with stars and moons. She walked toward the tent, drawn by an inexplicable sense of urgency, but she couldn’t separate if it was her feelings or those of the old woman beckoning her.
The noise of the carnival drifted away like an old memory until only the tent remained. She parted the curtains and stepped inside. The smell of patchouli and sandalwood filled her senses as her eyes adjusted to the darkness inside, illuminated only by a few candles lit on the table. Sitting at the t
able was an old woman dressed in green and purple with gold coins adorning her clothes. Her hair was silvery-white, and her voice aged, indicating that she was very old, but her skin was unmarred by any lines or blemish, smooth and untainted like fine porcelain.
But most startling were her eyes…sapphire blue, bright and shimmering like jewels. They held a fire deep within their depths, but looked upon her softly. She motioned to the chair opposite where she sat, and Richelle accepted the offer. As she sat down, she noticed there was not a sound to be heard. There was no noise from the carnival outside and no noise inside. She saw chimes hanging, swaying, but they did not ring. Absolute silence.
“Welcome to my home, Richelle.” Her voice, despite the faint Slavic accent and husky cracking, was melodious to Richelle, like a grandmother speaking to a child.
“How do you know my name?”
The woman chuckled softly. “There are a great many things I know.” She struck a match and slowly lit a pillar candle in front of her, illuminating her face and giving the illusion of serenity and wisdom. “There are many things you need to know.” She casually placed the snuffed match in a copper censor to her left.
Richelle watched the old woman’s calculated movements as she blessed the table with burning incense and chanted a quiet incantation over the pillar candle.
“I am Madame Selene.”
Richelle was fascinated by Madame Selene’s hand motions, the way they swayed as if she were dancing to music despite the fact that she didn’t rise from her chair. The whole scene was surreal. Atop the table were the tools of the craft arranged similar to an altar, but not quite. A silver chalice, an athame, a mortar and pestle, and a cauldron all circled a tarot deck.
Madame Selene picked up the tarot deck and began to shuffle the cards. There was a strange image of a pentagram with a circle on a mottled background of black, blue, purple, and green. It was mesmerizing watching Madame Selene handle the cards. The images seemingly pulsed with life as the colors swirled rhythmically. It was spellbinding.