Revenant

by Janet Jones

  It should have been Sarah he'd married. It would have been, if not for his honor and hers. But now he was glad he hadn't. He had spared Sarah the tragedy Maddie faced. Honor had served him in the end. That made it worth keeping.

  "What's wrong, Ellory?"

  His voice rasped in his throat. “Based on my information, the stories about Madeline and Benedikt's disastrous marriage are entirely true. They weren't meant for each other. I wouldn't be surprised if Benedikt placed his affections elsewhere."

  "So you think he did leave Madeline?"

  "No, he didn't condone faithlessness. He made his choice and was true to it."

  "You agree with me, then? That his disappearance was not his fault?"

  He turned his gaze on her, unwavering, demanding. “You're saying you believe in him, then?"

  She shut him out in a breath of a moment. “It's a hard habit to break."

  Ellory drew a deep breath and turned his gaze on the rainy night beyond. If she could stay disenchanted with him, even hate him, it would be easier to do what he had to do. But her continued admiration made it hard to stomach the inevitable.

  He could, of course, go on feeding her love for the man he'd been three hundred years ago. He could take control of her mind, take control of her life, move her into the summer house, wrap her in a fantasy and bring that man to life, just for her. For awhile, people would wonder what had become of her. Nothing he couldn't remedy. It was amazing how easy it was for a vampire to make a human disappear. Eventually people would stop asking about her, stop looking for her and forget she had ever existed.

  He could keep Talisen blind to reality for the rest of her days. She'd be happily oblivious to what he took from her, until the night came when he took it all and released her from this life.

  That was how the enclave would expect him to handle Talisen. That was how his queen would expect him to handle her. That was the vampire way.

  But not his.

  He wouldn't bring Talisen into his household under the shame of a lie. Her integrity demanded honesty, and honesty was what he'd give her.

  Even if she hated him for it.

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  Chapter Four

  The rain had calmed to a cozy drizzle by the time Talisen turned in at the summer house. The main gate swung silently open to admit them. Standard equipment for a reclusive musician? But no security lighting for the grounds. Odd. It was pitch dark beyond the fragile headlights of the camper.

  Ellory directed her along a winding gravel driveway that ended at an old carriage house. She pulled up outside of it and cut the engine. Gosh, it was quiet here. He came around and opened her door for her and led her up a path that ended in yet another wall, which enclosed the garden and house itself. This gate as well opened ahead of them before they reached it.

  They stepped inside the walled garden, and Talisen peered around in the near pitch-dark, breathing the fragrances of wet, leafy things. Ahead, a porch light illuminated a patch of the old three-story house's white clapboard siding and green shutters. All the windows were dark except for one on the ground floor.

  When Ellory reached for her hand to guide her up the hedge-lined walk, she felt a swarm of butterflies in her stomach and nearly laughed at herself.

  Opening the front door, Ellory stood aside and gestured for her to enter. His eyes gleamed in the fragile red-gold of the porch light. “Welcome to our home, Talisen."

  Talisen hesitated, nibbling her lower lip, returning Ellory's gaze with the feeling that the step that would take her into his house would also take her into his world. Into his life. A shivery chill like a hundred caterpillars crawled over her.

  She had to cut this nonsense out and get a grip. He was just a guy. A nice man. Still, her heartbeat vibrated in her jugular as she stepped across the threshold.

  The warmth of the house stole her breath away. She sucked at the air, only to catch Ellory's woody scent as he stepped inside behind her and closed the door.

  He motioned her toward a den to her left. The room was lit only by the fire, which made it seem large and intimate at the same time. It was paneled in wood the color of Ellory's hair, and its rugs and drapery were all muted golds and reds.

  In one corner stood a black baby grand; in the other, a stereo, TV, and a desk with a PC. The scent of leather upholstery and thick carpet made it smell expensive; the scent of its many books made it smell like home.

  Talisen spied a single cardboard box on a long table in front of the hearth. “Your attic treasures?"

  He winced. “Hope you won't be disappointed."

  Setting her briefcase on the table, Ellory glided across the room to the stereo. Talisen turned to the box on the table and sat down. The first thing she reached for was a withered letterbox. Its pewter hinges hung awry like loose teeth. Placing it on the table before her, she ran a finger along the top of it. His hands had touched this. Her Captain. Over two hundred years of life and death, all that separated them, bridged by a remnant of wood.

  The bittersweet strains of one of Rachmaninoff's piano concertos called Talisen out of her reverie.

  She looked around at Ellory and smiled in surprise and appreciation. “That's his second concerto. It's my favorite."

  "Then I hope I did it justice."

  "Oh, wow. That's you playing?"

  He nodded. “This is what I did for a living before I began composing my own music."

  A concert pianist. Talisen eyed his graceful profile, the tensing of his sensitive mouth as he listened to the music, the rhythmic drumming of his long, muscled fingers. She could see him in a tuxedo, playing before an audience in a cavernous symphony hall somewhere in Europe. “Beautiful."

  He gave her a gracious smile. “Thank you."

  She turned back to the letterbox to hide the blush that set her face on fire. “Are all these his letters?"

  Ellory answered her from the kitchen, though she hadn't heard him leave the room. “Not all of them."

  "I have a letter, too,” she said.

  He returned with a glass of red wine, which he set on the table before her. “Hope you like Merlot."

  Was he a mind-reader? “That's my favorite wine."

  He grinned. “Really? Splendid. May I see your letter?"

  Talisen opened her briefcase and handed him the clear-plastic archival slipcover that housed the mangled piece of parchment. “It's from Madeline to her cousin Sarah. Maybe she's the same cousin Benedikt mentions in your letter."

  She watched Ellory seat himself on the edge of the table to study the letter. Her gaze followed the movement of his hand when he tunneled his fingers through his mahogany hair. Her fingers itched to do the same.

  How could she be so fickle? Here she sat, holding a letter by the Captain himself, untold secrets in the palm of her hand, and all she could think of was how good Ellory looked in jeans, how he filled out his red flannel shirt, how good he smelled.

  He looked down at her suddenly, his eyes crinkling with humor. “Pleased?"

  She caught her breath. “W-what?"

  "The wine. Do you like it?"

  She took a sip. “Mmmmm. Not having any?"

  "Alcohol doesn't agree with me."

  She snapped her gaze away from him, clearing her throat as Rachmaninoff and the rest of the world eluded her for the space of two breaths, and then focused her concentration on the letterbox.

  * * * *

  Ellory watched Talisen reach for her glass again and take a sip. The way she savored its taste before swallowing made him want to savor her the same way.

  Amazing. He found Madeline's letter, a remnant of his human life, less fascinating than the way the firelight touched off the sunrise-red in Talisen's hair. She was so beautiful, so innocent. She needed the kind of love that unfolded, rather than overwhelmed. Slow and tender. He nearly groaned.

  Focus, fool. He emitted a soundless sigh. The letter. Maddie had written to Sarah to apologize for not attending her sixteenth birthday party. Sk
imming the paragraphs, he came across something peculiar, indeed.

  Regarding that matter, dear cousin, which you recently confided in me, please rest assured that all is forgiven. It is as nothing to me. Ellory was a fine and beautiful man. It would be difficult for any woman not to be taken with him.

  Knowing now how you cared for him, the occasion of our introduction to him must have seemed heartless. There you were, looking like a shade, barely recovered from having nursed your aunt through a fever. And to think, I danced with Ellory all evening, while you could only sit and watch.

  Rest assured, had I but known then that you harbored tender feelings for him, I'd have confided all to him—yes, and heeded no argument from you on the matter. He would have been on his honor, as ever he was, to dance with none but you.

  It is I who should apologize to you, dear Sarah. Placate my poor heart and tell me your fondness for him was just a little girl's fancy. Otherwise, I shall be lost in my shame for having usurped something you might have treasured as much as I myself have done.

  Ellory cast his mind back to that evening, the sweet summer night that would be forever painted in his mind, his first glimpse of Madeline, their first dance. In his eyes, fool that he was, she had eclipsed everyone else in the room—including her reed-thin, knock-kneed little cousin from Braintree. It was not until later that he'd gotten to know Sarah. Too late.

  Talisen tapped the letter in his hand. “Isn't it great that we each have a letter mentioning that first meeting between Madeline and the Captain? It confirms our facts."

  Actually, what interested him more was that they each had a letter that mentioned Sarah. He handed the letter back to Talisen. “What happened to Sarah?"

  Talisen bent over her notebook. “All we know is she never married, and she lived with Madeline after the Captain's disappearance. In fact, Madeline was with her when she died."

  "How did she die?” he asked, though he didn't want to know.

  "Pneumonia, I think."

  Sweet, loyal Sarah. “I'm glad she and Maddie had each other to rely on, so they wouldn't have to be alone."

  Talisen looked up at him. “Maddie? You mean Madeline?"

  That was careless of him. “Yes. She went by Maddie."

  Ellory went to stand at the fire. How many of his fledgling nights had he spent fantasizing about returning to Sarah in secret and confessing his love for her? He'd imagined she would accept him as he was, because her love was so pure.

  But that had been a dream to keep him sane. In reality, he'd have been a danger to her. A momentary loss of control, and he'd have reduced her to bloodless pulp.

  Could he trust himself any more with Talisen? She drew at his heart and soul even more than Sarah had.

  He gripped the hardwood mantel, leaving ten dents in it. Lord's mercy, he didn't want to hurt her. But he needed her so.

  "Do you know what Madeline looked like?” Talisen asked.

  "Yes.” He closed his eyes, remembering. “A gorgeous girl, by all accounts. Eyes the color of forget-me-nots. Rose-pink cheeks. Her smile was a summer's kiss."

  No. That was Sarah. As she had looked on the night of the party. He and Madeline were standing at a front window between dances. Maddie was talking to someone. He looked out the window and saw Sarah standing under a lantern outside, waiting for her carriage to be brought around. She chanced to look back. Her face was full of hurt. All for want of a dance with him? It had baffled him then—but now?

  He turned to look at Talisen and, as on that night long ago, found himself looking into pensive forest-green eyes surrounded by a halo of strawberry blonde hair. The fragile thread of time that spanned the ages between that night and this vibrated and connected with a new meaning.

  Another CD began to play, one of his own compositions this time. The first track was a piece he was especially proud of, a perfect blend of love and lust. He watched it weave its spell on Talisen, caressing her the way he ached to do. She wasn't even conscious of how her body sought the rhythm of the music, a rhythm born from all that lay within him.

  Her voice was soft and husky. “That's ‘Midnight Sun.’ It's my favorite of all your songs."

  Ellory held out his hand. “Talisen, will you honor me with a dance?"

  She looked bemused, but nodded. He drew her up from her chair and led her into the center of the room. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he took her hand in his and pulled her close.

  He wanted her to feel him, relish his closeness, his music, the frank desire he allowed to show in his eyes. While he swayed her gently in an aimless circle, he sought to make it all conspire to enthrall her—but it was really the other way around. He never wanted to be free of her enchantment.

  She drew back. Overwhelmed? Doubtless.

  He checked her retreat with a gentle squeeze and shook his head. “Just a dance. Okay?"

  She nodded and let him pull her still closer. He breathed in the fragrance of her hair, and with it, the scent of her fear. He could hear her heart catapulting inside her chest, her thoughts running in circles, her blood glutting every vein.

  He knew it was the unknown she feared. Talisen had enshrined her grandmother's safe and familiar image of the perfect man—her precious Captain—and added her own imaginings. Sweet secrets and dreams she kept all to herself.

  Ellory ground his teeth. Before he was done, she would whisper them to him, yield them up to him, one by one. If it was the last thing he did, he would fulfill each and every one.

  He felt her go still, then shake against him with a soft laugh. “Uhm, I think it's time for some introductions."

  Ellory glanced over his shoulder to find his children standing in the door of the den. Sean grinned. The fledglings, in various stages of apoplexy, stared. Georgina giggled. That seemed to speed everyone's recovery.

  He turned Talisen loose, but held her hand. Smiling, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, outwardly at ease. Inwardly, he issued a flood of directives indicating that he was not to be toyed with. Her name is Talisen Davies. You'll probably be seeing a lot of her—so stop gawking at her like a lot of harpies. She is not edible goods. Be very sure you understand that. For now, this is all you need to know.

  Aloud, he said, “As soon as you've remembered yourselves, you may say hello."

  Georgina came forward first, hand outstretched as though it were a garden tea, her Teddy Bear pajamas notwithstanding. “I'm Georgina. And you are?"

  "Talisen Davies. Nice to meet you."

  "Charmed.” His petite daughter pushed between him and Talisen, into the shelter of his arms. So, is she an appetizer, dessert, doggie-bag, or do you intend to keep her for a pet?

  Ellory fought down a growl. Behave, or I'll spank you.

  While his children made Talisen feel at home, Sean gave him a report on how Jenny was faring. “And Shelby's waiting for you to tuck her in."

  Ellory nodded and turned to Talisen. “I need to say goodnight to my youngest. I'll just be a minute."

  Talisen smiled at him. “Sure. Go ahead."

  Ellory paused in the doorway to look back, thinking he'd relish this image in his mind for the rest of his existence. Talisen, surrounded by his fledglings, everyone smiling and at their ease with one another. Of course, it was all based on her false-floor assumption that they were human. But she looked so happy. She was positively glowing. So beautiful. Porcelain on the outside, fire within.

  The fledglings were knee-deep in their at-risk-youth-rescued-by-the-wealthy-philanthropist routine. Courteous and interested, they silently dissected Talisen's every word. He grimaced. When vampires were nosy, they were meticulously so. Nothing escaped them.

  Ah, well, their curiosity was understandable. After he'd preached at them about not bringing their quarry into the house, he owed them a detailed explanation. But that would come later.

  He turned and headed upstairs to Shelby's room.

  Ellory.

  Meical rarely sounded so grave. What's Meinrad done, now?

  Oh, he's fin
e. We're “hanging out.” I've introduced him to a few extracurricular activities to give him a chance to get some of that defiance out of his system.

  Ellory rolled his eyes. Meical, bear in mind, this isn't the eighteenth century, and he's definitely not cut out for the sort of vagabonding you and I indulged in.

  You haven't scanned our domain tonight, have you?

  No. Why?

  I haven't scented him out yet, but....

  Who, Meical?

  I came across some news at Sartori's last night when I was rescuing Meinrad from himself. I got a description of the vampire who turned your new fledgling. Coal-black hair with a little gray. Blue eyes. The face of an undertaker with a terminal grin. Made from old blood, very powerful. The thing that sets him apart from our humble familiars is that when he kills his prey, he makes it a long,—drawn-out affair, according to the boasts that are being propagated on his behalf. Now who does that make you think of?

  Ellory leaned heavily against the wall of the stairwell and rubbed his eyes. Poor Jenny. It's Dylan alright. He has already approached Talisen.

  Then he's found her. Not good. Meical's thought-voice gentled. If Dylan gets hold of your little human morsel, he'll make her end a piteous thing, just for old time's sake. Better make a decision about her soon.

  I will see to her silence, but I will not deceive her. I will have her know what I am.

  What good can come of that, my friend? It's heartless.

  Meical, I will not lie to her, not even to make it easier for her.

  Ellory broke off contact and pounded down the urge to blaze a trail of blood from one domain to the next. He had survived conflicts before. Such could not be said for those who had crossed him. Except for Dylan.

  Dylan's arrival changed everything. Hopefully, bringing Talisen into the household would be enough to keep her safe without the full protection of his mark. He wanted time to make her understand she was more to him than the blood in her veins. But she wouldn't be truly safe until she was his.

  * * * *

  Talisen found herself talking to the Benedikt children as though she'd known them for years. If not for the fact that they hailed from different parts of the world, she could've believed they shared a blood relation with Ellory. They had his grace and physical beauty, his piercing look in their eyes, his wit—and his prowess at conversation. Except for Sean Mackleroy. He seemed somehow more ordinary than the rest of them, perhaps because he looked like a local.