by Candace Sams
The situation was very strange indeed.
She needed Gart.
She left the kitchen, walked through the long gallery downstairs, then made her way up to the floor on which her bedroom was located. That was when she saw the second oddity of the evening.
Gart’s arched double doors were wide open. He never left them that way, but she sensed his presence inside. Her powers in that regard seemed to be growing. The invitation to enter was obvious.
She strode forward, then hesitated outside.
“Come in, Jean.”
Imminently relieved that he hadn’t left the premises, she relaxed and walked in. He’d been waiting for her to find him, and had obviously sensed her.
When she strode into the one place in the entire structure that she hadn’t yet explored, there was no surprise in finding décor as bold and grand as a man who’d lived several lifetimes.
The furnishings were all huge, oak, polished and perfect for the person abiding here. The vaulted room was massive. Bureaus, chests, wardrobes, oil paintings, and beautifully framed photos were artfully placed everywhere. The bed, itself, could have slept five people. The four posts on the frame had to be twenty inches in diameter. Everything sat on a wooden floor, that was as pristine-looking as everything else.
Gart stood by a gargantuan picture window that was surrounded by dark green drapes trimmed in silver.
With the last light of the day outlining his colossal body, she could well imagine the fear he’d thrust into the heart of any enemy. His dark, shaggy hair was combed back and gently touched his neck. Like some baron or duke, he’d donned a thick Irish sweater in a mottled cream color. His brown riding breeches and perfectly polished boots seemed so right for the environment.
Garrett Bloodnight looked like the rest of the décor—strong, refined, everlasting and impossible to ignore. When he slowly turned, the width of his broad shoulders blocked a substantial amount of waning light. He tilted his head and walked slowly toward her.
“Were you going riding?” she softly asked.
“I was. Changed my mind. Mrs. Gast insisted that I take care of some personal business.”
“Where is she? Where is everyone going?”
“I’m not certain, but I have an idea.”
Jean’s gazed lifted upward when he moved closer. He was hiding nothing from her growing empathic powers. The man wanted her there—desperately. She gasped and stepped back when full waves of pure adoration mingled with admiration and trust. “I…I feel what you’re feeling,” she whispered.
“Good. As to your query, I think Mrs. Gast has taken herself and nearly everyone else off to the village…in an effort to leave us alone. There’s also some mystical, celestial event on the horizon. That’s according to Hingus Tate. He says that no one from the village wants to be up on the hill when this occurrence takes place.” Gart shrugged. “Some superstitions die hard. Lately, I’ve concluded that I’ve no right to judge. By the way,” he continued offhandedly, “what you’re sensing is how much in love with you I am. I’m not mistaken that you reciprocate. Right?”
“Anna…she must have said something, though I never spoke to her about—”
“Women are always so much more perceptive about such things. To get back to the point, I did recognize your feelings for me. I was afraid to let myself fully engage them. I kept your emotions shoved away, as well as my own. If you were more powerful…less new to this strange, magical lifestyle…you’d have likely known how I feel, much sooner.”
“Gart?”
He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer. “I can’t pretend this isn’t happening. Not any longer. Makes no sense to do it. No sense at all.” He lowered his head and kissed her hard, long and deeply.
Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with all the ardor in her entire body.
He briefly ended the kiss, but kept his full lips against hers. “I won’t be without you, Jean. I love you so damned much that nothing else on earth matters. Nothing! I didn’t realize how lonely life was until you walked through my door.” He kissed her again, and his hands moved to her waist. He lifted her up, off the floor, and pulled her against his chest.
One of the round-toed pumps she’d picked out to wear with her brown tweed pencil skirt fell off, but she didn’t care.
He broke the kiss once again. “You’re so flaming beautiful,” he whispered as he pulled the clip from her hair with one hand. He let that clip fall to the floor. These movements were accomplished while still holding her against his chest with one forearm.
She pushed against him slightly; he immediately gazed into her eyes.
“While you weren’t watching closely, I learned a cute trick from Merlin,” she softly murmured. “Want to see?”
“Show me anything. Just don’t leave. Not ever!”
She lifted her left hand from his shoulder and made a slight sweeping motion with it. The doors to Gart’s room swung shut with a resounding thud.
He smiled so sweetly that she almost wanted to cry.
“Best use of magic award goes to you, baby!”
“I’ve got more,” she told him. “First things, first.”
“Show me!”
An hour later, Gart rested in bed with Jean wrapped in his arms. Sheets and bed clothes were tangled around their bodies. She gently nuzzled her cheek against his chest, and he snuggled her closer. He’d never felt such peace.
“I love you, Gart. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”
“Word of caution, sweetheart. Forever is a long time. You could get tired of me.”
“How could I? For us, life will never be boring.”
He chuckled, and rolled over her until he was on top. Carefully, he rested his much greater weight on his elbows.
“God, you’re soft,” he murmured, then kissed her deeply and pulled her into a sitting position. “I want to stay inside you all night.”
She playfully pulled long strands of his hair. “I won’t object.”
“There are things I want to say first. You need to hear them.”
“What things?”
“I’ve got a lot of issues,” he admitted, with a decided nod. Then, he stood to make his point, and to put some thinking distance between them.
She blinked and turned her gaze away. “Gart…I can’t look at you and listen. Put something on if you want me to pay attention,” she smilingly suggested.
He laughed. “I’ll get a robe. Pour us a drink and I’ll find something for you to wear.”
“No need,” she said as she grabbed up his sweater and pulled it over her head and body.
He stopped and stared. “That sweater…”
“What? What is it?”
“It never looked so damned good!” He moaned loudly, in torment over leaving her side. “You look utterly delectable in wool. I love your hair loose and tangled. Wear it like that more often!”
It took every bit of will he had to turn away, get to the loo and find his robe.
When he returned, she was pouring whiskey from a crystal table decanter. She handed him a tumbler, then sat in front of the fireplace. Embers there glowed warmly.
He knelt on the floor beside her, shook his hair back and took his drink from her. After swallowing more of the alcohol, he took both their glasses and put them aside.
She ran her fingers through his mane, and smile tenderly. That moment would forever be captured in his memory. There were so many important moments in his life, but this one topped them. The firelight shimmering on her hair made her look like an autumn goddess. Before touching her again, she had to know his story.
“I know your history, Jean. I think you should hear some of mine.”
“I-I’d very much like to.”
He took a deep breath, then thought about where to begin. “I don’t recall anything about my very early life. Something happened to my parents when I was young. I was taken to an orphanage.” When she cupped his cheeks with
her hands, he shook his head so he could continue. “It wasn’t horrible. Not as bad as you would imagine. No one there was ever hungry. No one ever beat me, or mistreated me or the other children. But, like so many of us, we wanted a home. With people who’d be ours. You follow?”
“Of course, my darling!”
She briefly hugged him, but he gently extracted himself from the hug so he could continue.
“Even as a kid, I was always very big. I don’t really know what my age is. The agency doctors put me at mid-thirty. The good news is that I got to pick my birthday. I chose the first day of autumn. It’s my favorite time of year.”
She continued to stroke his hair and cheeks. For the first time in his life, he felt what it was like for someone else’s heart to ache for him.
“Don’t be sad for me, Jean. I had a very good life. I worked all kinds of jobs, traveled and learned things. There aren’t too many occupations that I haven’t tried. That might be why I was so good at undercover work after I became an immortal. Obviously, all that happened before computers and the internet outed me to the world.”
“You must have been lonely.”
“Everyone is at one time or another. I don’t have the market cornered in that regard. I had adventures and great comrades.”
“Women?” she asked with a half-grin and an arched brow.
“I lived a man’s life. What can I say?” He kissed the back of her hand, but she smiled about having probed into that part of his life. He instinctively knew she’d never ask again. There’d be no need. She was all he wanted, all he’d ever need.
“But there’s one more thing that sounds…well it sounds…”
“Go on, Gart.”
“This will sound paranoid, but I felt as though I was always being guided. Watched. Like people went out of their way to make sure I got chances others might not have. No one was ever disrespectful in a way that mattered. In fact, I can’t recall a single terrible altercation until WWI.”
“I don’t know very much about those times, but I know someone like you would feel he had to fight.”
“I did.” He paused for a long moment. “When I woke up in a field hospital and doctors were standing around me, I thought I was done for. And then I thought, why would my imminent demise demand more attention than any other soldiers’?”
“That’s when they told you that you were immortal,” she confirmed.
“Yeah.”
“I know how I felt when it happened to me. We’ve talked about that. But how did you feel?” she asked.
“I can only say that…all my life, I’ve felt like I was meant for something very important. Something that, if I didn’t accept the challenge, a lot of people could die,” he said as he gazed into the fireplace. Then, he turned back to her. “I’m not saying that I’m more important than anyone else. I only know that I was born big and with a lot of strength for a reason. I’ve always taken up for anyone who couldn’t defend themselves. I don’t know why. Nobody asked me to. Their business wasn’t mine. But it seemed wrong not to do something if I could. I don’t like bullies and never have.”
“I get that about you. But…what led you to be a vegetarian? Just choice?”
“I wasn’t always. When working on a farm one time, I got a look at the animals being butchered.” Gart couldn’t speak for a long time, then he blinked back tears and continued. “I was never hungry. Not in my whole life. I don’t know why. I always found work, and always had enough to eat. More than enough. Others were very hungry indeed. I don’t judge what they did regarding livestock. Not if it was quick and painless. It’s not my right to judge. I just know that I couldn’t do it anymore.”
She gazed at him with her heart in her eyes.
“I can’t look at a creature, feel its soul and kill it.” He slowly shook his head. “People make choices. Adults have a say in their lives and the way they live them. At least they do in most places. For those that have no voice…children, animals, and the elderly…I don’t like seeing them abused. I won’t. I’ll step in if I must!” he declared.
She began to silently cry.
He put one hand on her knee and tried to lighten the moment. “Baby…I wouldn’t hold it against you if you drove into town and bought a burger,” he admitted. “I’m not going to get in your face about it. I know you’ve been eating fruit and vegetables because I do.”
“No. I really don’t want to eat meat. Not anymore.”
He hugged her hard, then let her go again. He still had more to say, and had to get it out. “While self-righteously claiming my love for the animals of this world…I have to tell you about the absurd, hypocritical side of my life.”
“I-I’m listening.”
“I’ve killed a lot of people, Jean. I saw them as the tormenters of the world; savages who’d kill everything good and innocent. I still see them on the landscape. And, despite my so-called retirement, I’ll still take them out if asked to do so. Wherever I find them.”
“I know that. Agency or no agency…if you’re called, I intend to go with you.”
“Killing someone is quite different than talking about it. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I just made love to a man who’s done it.” She leaned forward, until their faces were very close together. “Do you think I’d love you if you weren’t really a gentle soul who only wants to see people leave each other alone? A man who only wants people to treat the creatures of this world with kindness? Do you think I could love a man who isn’t noble and honorable in every way?”
“That’s not an answer, Jean.”
“If you killed, it was because you had to. I know that if anyone ever tries to hurt you, I’ll kill, too.”
He stared into eyes so blue and sparkling that he could fall into them and never come back. It was like gazing into a field of stars. “Your great grandfather would be so very proud of you. He knew that a few must stand between tyrants, and those who can’t defend themselves. Like him, you’re a warrior, Jean. One day, I’ll be taking orders from you. But it won’t be hard. Not hard at all.”
She tearfully snorted. “Not likely.”
“Yeah. Likely!”
He would have kissed her again, then he’d have taken her back to bed. A strange sensation suddenly stopped him. It was like someone was knocking on an internal door that he had to answer.
Jean felt it, too. She slowly turned her head toward the window.
“Gart! Look at the light coming in. Look at it,” she pled, as her face took on an amazed expression.
He shifted his position to look behind him, at the window across the large room. When he saw what she did, he grabbed her hand. She readily stood to walk with him.
As darkness fell and the moon rose, it’s light had eventually reached the large picture window in his bedroom. It now illuminated every single object in his room, the very same way old WWII air raid searchlights would.
They stood in front of the window, looking outside. An immense moon hung in the sky. Its light almost blocked out all the velvet, night blue in the firmament.
“This is the reason the employees wanted to get out of here,” Jean softly muttered. “I don’t blame them.”
“Afraid, Jean?”
“No. Just…awed.” She still gripped his arm with her hands. “This is a Celtic Moon. Isn’t it?”
“Locals have always spoken of it, but I’ve never seen one. It’s said that no one knows why they appear. Some of my staff have told me that, a few days before this moon comes out, older folks in the village can hear ghostly cries of battle coming from the hills.”
Jean gazed up at him. “Tell me you’re joking.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “No, that’s really what they say.”
“Gart…Merlin isn’t capable of bringing on such a celestial event, is he?”
“Baby…let’s hope not.”
She backed out of his hug, and moved deeper into the room. “Close the drapes. I feel like there’s something outside. Lurkin
g.”
“No problem. Drapes closed,” he readily agreed as he pulled the thick window dressings together. When he turned to look at her, she was staring at the floor, as if some thought now flooded her brain and she couldn’t let it go. He moved quickly to her. “What’s wrong, Jean?”
“When I mentioned Merlin, I got the strangest impression…”
“Go on, sweetheart,” he urged.
She gazed straight into his eyes. “Gart…he’s not telling us everything. I think…I think he’s hiding a lot more than you or I could begin to imagine.”
Sounds suddenly drifted into the room, but only faintly. “Listen!” he told her.
They stood still for some moments.
Gart heard orders being given, horses hooves beating on the ground, and cries of men in battle. He heard the clang of swords and the thud of bodies engaged in mortal combat. Then, he entered a sort of daze where the present wasn’t the present. The past encroached.
“I…I need…need to be with them,” Gart muttered as he walked toward the window.
Then, the dulcet sounds of Debussy’s Clair de lune completely obliterated the mystical battle cries. He blinked hard several times and turned around.
Jean had turned on his entertainment center; playing the last classical piece of music he’d been listening to. She’d obviously turned the recording on to block out the ghostly cries.
“You’re not going anywhere, mister. You’re staying right here. With me!”
“I…I don’t know…what c-came over me,” he stammered as he dragged his hands through his hair.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll sort this out with Merlin. I know that cagey enchanter has something to do with this! At the very least, he knows what’s out there in the hills, and should have told us!” She angrily shook her head. “Right now, you’re getting back into bed, and I’m holding you. All night! If there’s magic in those hills, let it stay there.”
He smiled broadly.
This was the protector he knew she’d one day be. This was the women he’d fight to stand beside.
“I’m all yours, milady…all yours.”
Merlin turned away from the view of Bloodnight Hall.