by Ann Lory
“Then, welcome.” Christian motioned him toward the building.
“Thank you, Christian. I hadn’t realized you had returned.”
Christian looked at the house, and Damian followed his gaze, taking in the towering white pillars and wraparound porch. Windows surrounded the house on both floors, and a small balcony stretched out from the master bedroom at the top floor, overlooking the long circular drive.
“I always return to Whispering Willows.” He smiled sadly. “Come. Rest, and start your journey again tomorrow.”
Damian nodded and followed Christian across the lawn and up the stone steps into the structure. Then they climbed from the main foyer to the second level, where Christian opened a door to a bedroom.
“She may rest in here while we visit.”
Damian pulled back the covers on the bed with one hand, laid Alyssa down, then replaced the covers and smoothed them over her sleeping form. He kissed her forehead tenderly and lingered for a moment more before he turned and left.
In the parlor, Christian offered Damian a glass of red wine, which he accepted. His host gestured toward one of the cushioned seats; then he settled into a chair opposite Damian. He indicated the stairs.
“So, when did she happen?”
Damian couldn’t help his small smile. “She happened a few weeks ago. Her name is Alyssa Quinlan.”
“How did you meet?”
Leaning forward, Damian cupped his glass in his hand, the stem between his fingers. “It’s a very long story.” He paused, trying to make his next sentence sound better than the truth, but there was no way around it. “I was supposed to end her life.” He waited for a comment from Christian, who had bolted upright in his seat.
“Alyssa and I fought, and, well, I won.” Damian grinned.
“Did D’Angel give the orders?”
Sighing, Damian sank back into his chair. “Yes, and she’s very unhappy with me right now. I’ve been named a traitor, and Alyssa’s life is still in danger.” Even now, the thought of anything happening to Alyssa filled his mind with a terror he’d not felt since D’Angel had turned him against his will all those centuries ago.
Damian took a drink of his wine, staring broodingly into the flames that crackled in the fireplace. “I’ve vowed to protect her; she won’t be harmed.”
Christian eyed him warily. “You know you’ll have to destroy D’Angel.” Silence filled the room, and then he spoke again. “Do you really think you can?”
Damian didn’t know. He wanted to shout “yes,” but his heart clenched at the thought. D’Angel…oh, how he’d loved her once, but evil had claimed her too long ago.
“I hope so, Christian.”
“Where is she now?”
Damian shrugged. “No doubt somewhere in Italy, in the past. That is where she usually hides.”
Christian’s eyes were alight with curiosity. “So, she also has the ability to travel in time.” At Damian’s slight nod, he continued. “And you?”
Shaking his head, Damian ran his fingers through hair in frustration. “No. That is one power not granted to me.”
“I, too, spend most of my time in the past of late. I had hoped to lose myself there, but every night I am reminded yet again of what I’ve lost.”
Damian leaned forward in his seat once more, saw clearly Christian’s shock that he’d show such concern. “I am sorry, Christian. I didn’t understand before, but now…” He glanced quickly toward the stairs.
Christian nodded, rose to his feet. He held out his hand, and Damian clasped it for the friendship that was meant. “Dawn approaches. The bedroom Alyssa sleeps in is closed off from the sun. You may rest there if you wish.”
Standing, Damian nodded as well, watching as Christian walked away; then he made his own way toward Alyssa. When he entered the bedroom, he let the darkness envelop him, feeling at one with the shadows. Lying down beside her, he gazed at her face, seeing every outline, and heard the soft rhythm of her heart, its beat slow and steady as she slept.
His fingers touched her black hair, twining in the rich texture of the silken mass, and he focused on her slightly parted lips. The sound of her even breathing filled his mind. Touching her cheek, Damian marveled at how satiny smooth her skin was. Everything about her was beautiful, and a part of him wished she would wake briefly so that he could see her bright green eyes before he himself slept.
Sighing, he pulled her into his arms and continued to watch her sleep until the sun rose in the sky. She turned her small body into his, her arm settling across his chest.
When had it happened, he wondered as the lethargy took hold of him. When had he fallen so completely in love with Alyssa Quinlan?
God help them both.
Chapter Ten
Alyssa walked on the beach, stopping to dig her feet into the wet sand. The surf rushed over her ankles and up to her calves, the foam tickling her skin. She peeked back at the beach house her family had rented this summer, then looked back out over the dark waters of the ocean.
A soft laugh caught her attention, and Alyssa spun around, surprised to find an older teenager standing a few feet behind her. Her hair was glossy black, and she was tall and willowy, with the lush curves that Alyssa hoped she herself would be blessed with in a couple of years.
The girl looked at her with black eyes, and for a moment there was a coldness there that caused Alyssa to shiver, but just as quickly it was gone. A warm smile appeared and seemed to spread over the girl’s pale, delicate features.
Returning her smile, Alyssa introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Alyssa. My family and I are vacationing here.” She pointed to the house behind them.
The girl gave a slight nod. “I am called D’Angel. I, too, am vacationing.”
Alyssa’s eyes widened. “Cool accent. Where’re you from?”
D’Angel gave a soft laugh. “I am from Italy and visiting my brother here in Florida, but he is so boring. He never wants to play.” The way the girl purred the last few words made her sound like cat would if a cat were capable of human speech.
D’Angel stepped forward; her movements were so graceful, it was almost as if she were floating. She reminded Alyssa of a ballerina.
“Do you like to play, Alyssa?” Her smile was mischievous, but there was an instant where something dark seemed to lurk there. Then it was gone. Alyssa pushed her silly foreboding aside, blaming it on her active imagination.
“I love to do lots of things,” Alyssa said enthusiastically. “I have some new board games, and my mom is finally letting me use makeup now that I’m entering high school. We can practice on each other, if you want. Of course, you’re older than me, so maybe you can give me some tips. Otherwise, I’m sure I’ll be the only freshman not wearing any this year.”
Alyssa giggled, but D’Angel only stared at her. “How old are you, D’Angel?”
Something flickered in girl’s eyes. Had it been amusement? “I am…nineteen.”
“Oh.”
“Why do you look so disappointed?” D’Angel’s fingers grazed over Alyssa’s cheek. Alyssa shivered; the older girl’s touch was like ice.
“I guess you wouldn’t want to hang out with a fourteen-year-old.”
“I’ve no one else to, as you put it, hang out with at the moment.”
Alyssa grinned and did a small bounce into the air. “That would be so cool! We can spend the whole summer together. I can even show you some of the cheers I learned from cheerleading camp a couple of weeks ago. It was a blast. Were you in cheerleading?” Alyssa laughed, then asked, “Do they have cheerleading in Italy?”
D’Angel gave her a sweet smile. “No, not where I come from.”
Alyssa saw her mom open the back door and wave at her. “I have to go in now. How about we meet here tomorrow morning and hang out?”
D’Angel shook her head. “No, I am gone all day with my family. We can meet tomorrow night.”
“Okay, see you then.” Alyssa gave a happy wave good-bye as she ran toward her house, exc
ited about the new friend she’d made.
The next few weeks flew by. The two of them walked on the beach in the evenings and collected seashells or went to the ice cream parlor up the street. Alyssa thought it bizarre that D’Angel would never eat or drink or share an ice cream with her. Instead, she’d sit across the table and watch Alyssa eat, her black eyes intent. When Alyssa finally asked her why, she simply stated that she was trying to watch her “girlish figure.” Alyssa decided she’d go on a diet, too.
Alyssa’s family invited the Italian girl her into their summer home, sharing their time together by playing games, watching movies, or barbequing at night. Time and time again, Alyssa ran her brother Justin off, telling him to leave D’Angel alone, though the older girl didn’t seem to mind his attentions, telling Alyssa that she liked college boys.
Now, Alyssa ran a brush through D’Angel’s hair as they sat on Alyssa’s bed. “You have such a cool name.”
D’Angel gave a slight nod, not saying anything.
“Do you want me to French braid your hair?”
D’Angel shook her head, still not speaking. Alyssa wondered if the other girl was as upset as she was that Alyssa and her family were leaving next week to go back to Illinois.
As she brushed D’Angel’s long black hair, she spoke softly. “I will miss you after we’re gone, but we can e-mail or message each other. I can give you Justin’s e-mail address at college, too, since you both get along so well.” She sighed, trying not to cry. “Thanks for being my friend.”
D’Angel slowly turned her head. Alyssa sucked in a breath at the malevolent look glittering in her black eyes. “No, Alyssa. Thank you for inviting me into your home, into your life. For spending the summer with me and allowing me to play. I love to play with my toys before I destroy them.”
As she spoke, Alyssa watched in horror as D’Angel’s incisors lengthened into fangs. Her laughter filled the room and made Alyssa’s sudden fear a living, breathing thing.
Alyssa leaped from her bed at the sound of a crash downstairs, the screams of her family. Ignoring D’Angel, her thoughts solely now for her loved ones, she rushed down the stairs and froze at the bottom step, staring in disbelief at the men who were rushing into the house.
Several launched themselves at her father, dragging him kicking and screaming to the floor as they bit and ripped into his flesh. Her older brother was attacked from behind, a man biting into the back of his neck. Shrieking, Alyssa raced forward to attack the man who had grabbed her terrified mother. He tore viciously into the older woman’s neck while another latched onto her wrist.
“You bastards!”
The creature at her mother’s head looked at her as he drank and smiled, not at all fazed by her blows or her words. His grin was purely evil, and blood trailed from his lips down to his chin.
Someone came up behind her and spun Alyssa around, his eyes glowing, his fingers twisting painfully into her hair. He was going to kill her ‑‑ she could see it in his eyes ‑‑ but a sharp command stopped him. The voice was a familiar one.
He released her immediately and stepped back for D’Angel. Tears burned down Alyssa’s cheeks as she watched the one who was supposed to be her friend take control of the havoc being wreaked in the living room. Glancing to her right she saw the family Bible on the lamp table. She lunged for it, strands of her hair tearing away, and held the cover with a silver cross on it out at D’Angel. The creature was some kind of demon and surely the cross, the book, would save Alyssa’s family.
They laughed at her and she was shoved to the floor, her hands smearing in blood. She heard bodies cruelly dropped to the floor and knew her family was dead. The sound was like thunder, as if a chapter of her life had just closed and the book had fallen shut. She closed her eyes against the pain, too agonized to cry out for a moment. Then ‑‑
Alyssa screamed, leaped to her feet, and rushed forward as one of the creatures lifted Justin’s lifeless form, but D’Angel grabbed her wrist in a viselike grip Alyssa couldn’t break. She was forced to stand there, her free arm outstretched as far as she could reach toward Justin, staring with impotent hatred as her brother’s body was carried out.
Then D’Angel leaned close, grabbing her attention once more, “As I said, thank you for inviting me in…thank you for inviting me in…thank you for…” Her image began to swirl, her words echoing over and over. “Thank you…thank you…you…you…you…”
Alyssa shrieked, jerking upright on the bed. She sobbed and pushed against the covers, blinded by her tears. She had to get to her family! She had to save them this time.
Hands closed around her arms and she struck out.
“Alyssa! Alyssa, you are dreaming. Wake up!” She recognized his voice, his touch as he shook her. A light came on beside the bed, and her gaze settled on his beloved face. It was obvious he was fighting against his lethargy to be there for her.
She let Damian’s voice continue to wash over her. Though he was one of them, her enemy, he had somehow become her safe haven.
She fell forward into his arms, crying against his chest. His hands moved gently in her hair with calming, soothing motions. His voice was low and soft as he spoke, willing her to calm.
“Every time I dream, I relive what they did to my family all over again.” She looked up into his eyes, her fingers twisting into his shirt. “Sometimes I don’t think I will survive the next dream, that the heartache and pain will kill me. Sometimes I wish it would, so I won’t have to go through it again and again.”
Those words brought a fresh bout of tears. Damian hugged her tightly to him, rocking her back and forth, wanting her to cry it all out. To yell if she wanted, scream or hit, anything so that all her anguish would be released.
“Alyssa, I am sorry. I am so very sorry for your pain.” He kissed the top of her head. “I should’ve been there to stop her, but I had gone back to Italy, trying to stay as far away from her as possible. What she did was only a game to her, a twisted game.”
Alyssa shook her head, her nose buried against his chest. “It’s not your fault. I should’ve never let her in, never let her into my family’s life.”
Damian jerked her away from him, staring hard into her eyes. They were open and raw with her guilt, but the blame was his. He’d known what D’Angel had been up to; but from the time they were both mortal, he’d only told her again and again to put a halt to her games. Had wanted, like a fool, to believe her promises that she would. But deep down, he’d known it wouldn’t be that simple.
“Never blame yourself. She chose you, and if you hadn’t followed her plans, she would have bent your will to hers.” He hoped Alyssa would believe him. “I’ll stop her. I swear it.”
Alyssa shook her head, clearly shocked, staring at him with wide, swollen eyes. “But you love her.”
Damian shook his head. “No, Alyssa. I love you.” The words had poured out of him before he realized he was going to say them. Otherwise, he’d never have confessed his feelings now.
“What?” she whispered.
Damian sighed. His words seemed suspended between them.
For the first time, he felt her reach out with her mind and touch his with the slightest of brushes. He didn’t hide his thoughts from her. Instead, he let his emotions pour over her like a tidal wave. His pain, loneliness, and fear…and the hope that had sprung up since she’d entered his life. The love for her that he still was awed and confounded by. The fear she could never bring herself to return it.
He read her thoughts as well. Damian, whom she’d once thought so cruel, loved her. She was astonished.
He waited as she took in his memories. A boy growing up in Italy. The laughter as his father tossed him in the air as a small child, catching him, and swinging him around. His mother as she kissed him goodnight and pulled the covers up to his chin, touching the tip of his nose tenderly. His sister as he rounded a corner in a garden and caught her tugging viciously on a young serving girl’s hair and slapping the maid hard enough that t
he young woman’s head whipped back. Damian’s angry voice stopped his younger sibling’s actions, and she turned to face him.
Alyssa gasped.
“Alyssa…”
She shook her head frantically, then pushed herself from him, jumping out of the bed. She almost fell as the covers twisted around her legs. Finally untangling herself, she glared accusingly at Damian. “D’Angel’s your sister?!” She spat out the words. “The murderer who killed my family is your blood!”
He wanted to reach for her, but he didn’t know how much longer he could stay awake. The sun was rising higher in the noon sky, and his limbs felt like dead weights.
“Yes, she is my sister. My family thought she died when she was nineteen, though we never found her body, only the tattered and bloody remains of her dress. I didn’t know what had become of her until she came to me twelve years later.
“She told me that after I’d lashed out at her for her latest cruelty toward one of our maids, she’d decided to make me and our parents suffer because we were always trying to constrain her, change who she was. D’Angel convinced a man she’d been secretly meeting to turn her; it seems he was newly made himself. Then she left the remains of her dress so we’d think she’d been killed. Soon after, she abandoned her lover and spent the next several years traveling the world, indulging herself without restraint in her sick games.
“Eventually, she returned to Italy, tormenting our parents in the guise of her ghost. I thought someone was playing an evil trick on my family, but I should’ve known something was going on when Roberto and Vincente went missing. They’d been among D’Angel’s most fervent suitors, after all. Then she…she…”
Alyssa watched as his eyes became more heavily lidded, as he struggled to speak clearly. She knew sleep called him, but he appeared almost desperate to talk to her, to explain.
“She turned me, though I fought her. There was no mercy in her. Yet, all these years, I allowed myself to think she needed me, her brother, but I was a fool. She was evil when she was mortal, she was evil when she turned me, and she is evil now. I’ve come to realize I can’t help her.”