Heart of Frankenstein

by Lexi Post

  He turned her around to face him. “No. I’ll do that for you, at least until spring when I can dig into the ground and run a pipe to wash away the waste.”

  She laid her hands on his chest as she looked up at him. “That sounds great. So what was the hardest part of building my wedding gift?”

  “The shower.”

  Her mouth opened but nothing came out.

  He chuckled to have struck her speechless.

  She closed her mouth and her eyes took on a dreamy quality that seemed to come over her whenever he laughed. That look always made him want to make love to her wherever they were, but he wanted her to see her new bathroom first.

  Quickly, he bent and lifted her in his arms, thankful that his strength didn’t disappear with his immortality. He stepped around the small addition to the counter that separated the cooking area from his equipment area and set her down in front of the blanket hanging over the doorway that led to the new room.

  In the spring, he’d add another room on the north side of the cabin so they could have a bedroom, and during the winter he planned to build a loft and move all his equipment up there.

  “Can I go in now?” Angel’s excitement was palpable.

  “Yes.” He pulled the blanket aside.

  She walked in. “Oh, Sas. This is perfect.”

  “I kept the ceiling low. Once I build a door, the smaller space will stay warmer longer.”

  She looked at the blanket. “You don’t have to build a door.”

  “Yes, I do. It will make guests feel more comfortable.”

  “Guests?” She raised a brow at him before turning away, the bathroom taking her attention. “How do you get water in here?”

  He moved next to the tub. “The cold water is from the water that flows down the mountain underneath the rock. I added three taps to access that. One for the toilet over here when I have the piping in, one for the sink and one for the shower and tub. We will get a real tub eventually, but this should do for now.”

  She inspected the piping and levers of the shower. “Okay, I see how we can have a cold shower, but what about a warm one?”

  “That’s more difficult. We still need to heat the water on the wood stove, but we pour it in this barrel up here, allow some cold to mix with it, then open the lever here. Without a generator, that’s our only option right now.”

  She faced him. “I think it’s brilliant.”

  He looked into her excited green eyes. She really was pleased. “I’m glad you like it. I even added a small sink over here.”

  She looked at the small porcelain basin with a crack along the rim. “Let me guess, you found this at the Savik dump.”

  He nodded. “I caulked it so it won’t leak.”

  “I love it. I love the whole room. Thank you.” She turned to him and pulled him down for a kiss.

  In that moment, he knew he’d have to get a very big tub, because the refrigerator only fit one person and as her tongue slipped into his mouth, he could see them making love in it while cleaning each other.

  Her hand moved to his crotch, and she began stroking his growing cock. If he let her continue, she would burn dinner again, and he didn’t want her to be that upset. Taking her hand from his hard-on, he kissed it. “I believe we need to take dinner off the stove if you want to continue what you’ve started.”

  “Oh shoot.” She tore away from him and ran out of the room.

  He smiled. Having her as his wife had far exceeded his expectations. Every day he learned more about her and himself.

  Leaving their new bathroom, he walked into the kitchen area to find that she’d saved their dinner just in time.

  “I’m so glad you reminded me. I’m trying a new recipe that Ginny gave me when we stopped there last month.”

  “I’m glad I am of some help.” He was also getting used to her not needing him as much, at least for her basic needs. Luckily, she still needed him for her passionate ones.

  She tossed down the towel she’d used to remove the pan from the stove and sauntered over to him. “I’ll always need your help. We’re a team now. We help each other.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  She picked up his large hand in hers and put it against her chest. “I’m going to need a lot of help with this parenting thing. I have no idea how to be a mother.”

  “And I have no idea how to be a father, but we’ll learn and grow.”

  She smiled. “I have a feeling this will be the greatest adventure of my life.”

  A tiny doubt he’d had since bringing her back to his cabin resurfaced. “You never did journey to the North Pole. If you like, I can bring you there when our child is older.”

  She looked off for a moment, obviously contemplating his offer. He was well aware of how much she loved to travel, and it had been almost three months since she’d begun her fateful trip.

  Her green gaze returned to him. “I’m not sure how much that interests me anymore. I think I’m done with adventures since none of them can turn out as wonderfully as my last one did.” She winked. “I think I’ve seen enough of the world. You’re my world now.”

  His heart filled with love for this woman who had saved him. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, the scars on his wrist, slightly more noticeable than the ones on her hand, now that he’d taken off his choker and bands.

  She pulled away. “Don’t. It’s so ugly.”

  Baffled by her reaction, it took him a minute to understand what she referred to. “Do you mean your hand?”

  “Both of them.” She put them behind her back. “They remind me of how stupid I was.”

  He wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation, but he could see her scars truly upset her. Instead, he unbuttoned his new flannel shirt, a gift she’d brought him from Fairbanks.

  “What are you doing? Not that I mind or anything.”

  He shrugged out of his shirt and dropped it on the table.

  “Sas? Talk to me.”

  He lifted her hand again and laid her palm on his chest next to his heart, just below the scar that ran above it. “Your scars are beautiful to me. They are like mine, proof that we survived.”

  Her gaze fell. “I only survived because of you.” She tried to move her hand, but he held tight.

  “Your scars are beautiful to me.” He repeated his phrase, willing her to really hear him. “They are like mine, proof that we were fated for one another. “

  Her gaze lifted to meet his.

  “Your scars are beautiful to me.” He paused, staring into her eyes. “They are proof that you healed my scarred heart.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Sas. Your scars are beautiful to me, too. I promise to never let anyone hurt your heart again.” She rose onto her toes and kissed the scar that ran horizontally across his chest above their hands.

  His heart filled with happiness and he tilted her chin up, kissing her with all the love he had, his soul lifting with joy at what he’d found in her. He was open now to receiving the love she gave to him freely, not to a monster, but to a man with a future.

  She broke the kiss, wrapping her arms around him and resting her cheek against his bare chest. “I love you, Sas.”

  He looked over her head at the book that chronicled his early life, now sitting in a place of honor on the shelf next to his old mirror. Instead of anger and guilt, he felt only peace in her arms.

  He squeezed her lightly. “I love you, too, Angel.”

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  Read on for a taste of Masque...

  CHAPTER ONE

  Cape Breton, Nova Scotia

  People. Living, breathing people.

  Synn MacAllistair grasped the embrasure of the parapet, his heart thudding as he stared at the vehicle crossing the stone bridge over the moat. It came to a stop at Ashton Abbey’s massive gate.

  He waited. The great iron grille,
chained and padlocked against intruders, would be considered a significant deterrent to entering. Open it. Damn it, open it!

  The vehicle remained stationary. No one exited the large red monstrosity.

  Impatiently, he pushed away his hair as the breeze whipped it across his view. What were they waiting for? If they needed an axe to break the chain, he’d gladly provide them with one.

  Another smaller vehicle rolling parallel to the west wall caught his attention. It crossed the bridge and parked behind the larger one. More people?

  A man stepped from the small conveyance and shuffled to the gate. Synn leaned farther over the battlement, anxious to see if their time had come. The joyful sound of clanking chains floated up to him on the breeze.

  Finally! About bloody time. He swallowed hard to keep the yell of triumph from escaping his throat. No need to scare their new guests.

  The man below hurried back to his transport and, without hesitation, backed across the bridge and left faster than he’d arrived.

  Synn peered down at the red vehicle, still as a brick, its black windows making it impossible to see inside. A door opened and a woman burst onto the cobblestone entrance. She bent over and spoke to someone else still inside. Her blonde hair hid her face, but her ass, covered in men’s trousers, was small, her legs lanky. A woman? A woman dared enter a haunted abbey? He tried to grasp the concept.

  His plan was to convince a man to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, but there had to be a man to convince…unless a couple entered the Abbey. Couples enjoyed the Pleasure Rooms as well. If he could persuade a couple to participate in the Masque then his companions could still be freed.

  Peering hard, he watched and waited. After what seemed another decade, a door on the other side of the red contraption opened. He held his breath, willing the occupant to have broad shoulders, a beard, anything to indicate a man.

  A long, slender leg stretched out, a black high-heel shoe of delicate design at its end, and a feminine hand grasped the side, but remained stationary.

  He growled with frustration. “Bloody hell. What am I supposed to do with two women?” He hadn’t expected women. The Abbey overflowed with spirits. Only men should dare enter. How were blasted women going to help him? He paced away from the wall, but quickly returned. Could there be more people inside the vehicle?

  He waited, his patience long gone, not that he ever had much, but damn, it’d been a hundred and fifty years. That would strain the patience of an archangel, something he definitely was not.

  He glared as the leg moved and within a moment’s breath, the woman unfolded herself from the conveyance.

  Synn stared, frozen in time for once, drinking in a beauty far surpassing any painted Aphrodite he’d ever gazed upon. Her long, wavy brown hair captured the sun, shining like fine brandy. Her figure, as lush as any Greek goddess, swayed sensuously in her short dress. Her arms were bare and the smallest of noses held her dark glasses in place. He stepped back, away from the crenellation, his heart racing, his mind whirling with ideas.

  He paced the length of the wall. A vision was about to enter his stone prison. A woman fit to be worshiped with every salacious touch he’d ever learned. His cock hardened beneath his pantaloons. Amazed, he stopped and looked down at it. After so many years of having no needs—for food, for sleep, for relieving himself—the last he’d expected to feel was the need for a woman. He shook his head. It defied logic. But if his body could respond, then he could participate, guide a woman through the Masque.

  The creaking hinges of the gate brought him back to the wall to see the backs of the two women entering the Abbey courtyard. Two women. Vivid memories of his happier days with the prince caught him by surprise and gave him hope. As he strode across the wall-walk and down the stone staircase, his mind raced with possibilities. One after another they were discarded as he floated to the landing on the second floor. But a new plan began to form as the great pine doors opened.

  If she hadn’t been in heels, Rena Mills would have jumped over the threshold as she and Valerie pushed open the twelve-foot doors of Ashton Abbey. Their creaking sound didn’t bother her. In fact, she’d be sure those hinges never saw oil for the rest of their days. They made a perfect first impression for a haunted bed-and-breakfast.

  Valerie shook her head. “You love that noise, don’t you?”

  Rena grinned sheepishly as she stepped into the two-story stone entry the size of her parents’ house and spread her arms wide. “It’s perfect. I can’t believe it. I’m actually going to make this happen. Can’t you see it, Valerie?”

  Her friend raised her eyebrow. “If you say so.”

  “I do.” She examined the stone floor beneath her feet before touching a wall. The hard rock under her fingers was cool and rough. Her stomach somersaulted as success filled her veins. She could do this. Ashton Abbey resembled a castle and tourists would love staying here. All she needed was a little plumbing, a little electricity, a functioning kitchen, and a few ghosts. “Seriously, Val. You can see the potential, right?”

  Valerie gave her a hard look. “You don’t have to do this, Ree. You don’t have to prove anything. That jerk is full of himself. So all your success has come while working at your family’s company or at Bryce’s. That’s simply because you are a good event planner. Look at me. I’ve worked for my dad’s company all my life. That doesn’t mean I don’t know my shit.”

  “It’s not about Bryce. I have to prove this to myself.” She wished Valerie could understand.

  Her friend threw up her hands and stalked away. The woman was too confident to have any idea how it felt to be unsure. Rena sighed. The fact was, her ex-fiancé had a point. All her jobs had been obtained through her parents or him. After two months of being out of work, this was her only option. Now she had to make her new haunted abbey into a successful bed-and-breakfast, not simply to prove she could, but because she had every last penny on the line.

  As she perused the large entry with its double staircase leading to the next floor, her jubilance returned. The abandoned building was so much more than she’d expected for the price. She looked up at the semicircle windows near the ceiling, which let in sunlight, but she didn’t see any spirits. “I hope the real estate agent hadn’t exaggerated about the ghosts. If this place hasn’t sold because it’s haunted, then I better see some dead people pretty darn fast.”

  “Uh, Rena?”

  She glanced behind her to see Valerie had stepped into the next room. Turning, she strode through the doorway to find a grand dining room with green-and-gold paisley wallpaper. She stopped and smiled. “Oh, this is too good to be true.” Valerie had pulled aside one of the curtains from the fifteen-foot windows to let in the sun, and it reflected off an elegantly set table.

  “Over here.” Her friend stood at the head of the table, a deep frown on her face.

  “What is it? Did you find something?” She started down the length of the long table set to feed twenty-four. Her stomach twitched with excitement at the sight. She stopped to look at the place setting Valerie stared at. “What am I looking for?”

  Valerie shook her head. “Do you see anything unusual here?”

  She peered at the setting. The silverware had an elaborate P etched into it, but other than the fact it had multiple plates as if set for a formal occasion, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. “No. Should I?”

  Valerie sighed and crossed her arms over her small chest. “How long has this place been empty?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Over a hundred years or so? From what I hear, colored lights can be seen shining from the windows at night, but there’s no electricity. I guess the Abbey got lucky with ghosts and I’m going to make that work for us.”

  “And is there a caretaker of some sort?”

  “There is one family here who has taken care of the grounds for eons. I can’t remember their names, but it’s an old widower and his son. Why?”

  Valerie dragged her finger across the plate. “Do they take c
are of the inside as well?”

  “No, we are the only ones to enter inside these walls in a hundred and fifty years. Isn’t that amazing? Why, what are you getting at?”

  Valerie lifted her finger in front of Rena’s eyes. “Then why is there no dust?”

  Her brain came to a halt as she grasped Valerie’s point. Taking another look around the room, she saw no cobwebs, no dust, not even a chair out of place. She returned her gaze to Valerie. “Clean ghosts?”

  Valerie raised her brow. “Did you read about that in your research?”

  Rena picked up the plate and examined it, not comfortable meeting her friend’s eyes. “No, but I didn’t exactly do research. I watched a few shows on television and discovered people will pay to go to a haunted hotel. There has to be an explanation. Maybe someone has been living here and no one realized it.”

  Valerie crossed the room to the windows. “You mean behind the padlocked gate?”

  She joined her friend, puzzled, ready to believe in ghosts who cleaned. “What are you looking at?”

  “These curtains. If they’re a hundred years old, shouldn’t they be dry-rotted and in shreds?”

  A shiver ran across Rena’s skin. “Oh, damn. This is stranger than a simple haunting.” She ran her hand along the forest-green velvet of the curtain. The material, strong and thick, had a beige cotton backing. This didn’t make any sense. She turned to examine the rest of the room. The chairs around the massive table also had velvet in their backs. She stepped closer to one and ran her hand over the material. The softness was irresistible…and new.

  She paused. “It’s as if time has no meaning inside these walls. I wonder if the place is bewitched as well as haunted!”

  Valerie gave her one of her deprecating smiles. “And why is it haunted?”

  She grinned. She couldn’t help it. The more she saw of the Abbey, the more convinced she was that she could make it profitable. “It had something to do with the Red Death that swept through this town around 1861. I read that it could take a life within thirty minutes of exposure.”