by Janet Jones
"My turn?"
He grinned and patted his lap. “Please."
No way, you gorgeous thing. Too dangerous. She smiled but remained where she was and let her fingers roam over the keys.
"Sean says you went into town today. I wish you'd have waited for me to go with you."
She shook her head without looking up. “Sean seems to think I needed protecting. That wouldn't be your idea, would it?"
"I tend to be overprotective of those I care about. Where you're concerned, I doubt I could change to save my soul."
Stillness blanketed the room. Slowly, Talisen raised her gaze to his. Her heart pounded as it had moments ago when he'd come through the door, when he'd looked at her like a starving man looks at a feast before him. What did he expect from her? How far did she want this to go?
She ducked her head and stared at the piano keys, letting her hands fall into her lap. “Come play for me."
He joined her, turning the bench so he could straddle it behind her, while she squealed and laughed and caught his arm to keep from falling off. He scooted close and placed his arms on either side of her to reach for the keys.
Talisen sighed. It was amazing how content she felt around him. The scent and warmth of Ellory created a comfort zone. His big, beautiful hands glided over the keys. Slow and hungry in the bass, relentless and pleasing in the melody. He caressed his music from the piano with a touch Talisen longed to feel all over her body.
"Like this piece?” he asked. “It's my new one."
"The one you don't have a title for? It's gorgeous."
"It makes me think of you.” She felt his warm breath on the nape of her neck. “And how you make me feel."
His tone carried no expectations. She knew it was up to her to take it as an invitation. She turned it over in her mind, awash in the demands of her heart and body, but left her response unspoken. Instead, she leaned back against him, rested her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the feel of his soft, thick hair against her cheek.
He nuzzled her temple. “I've got it. The perfect title."
She sighed and closed her eyes. “Tell me."
"Talisen."
"Yes, Ellory?"
He laughed softly. “No, that's what I'm going to call this nocturne. Talisen. Is that all right with you?"
"Ooooo, you'll make me immortal."
His hands halted mid-measure, and his voice dropped to a grave whisper. “Would that please you?"
Talisen turned and looked up at him. Why was he so serious? His eyes burned her. She struggled for something to say. “My name on everyone's lips. What's not to like?"
He didn't even blink. “That's not what I mean."
"You mean really immortal, as in living forever? I believe in that. Don't you?"
His mouth twitched in a bitter smirk. “Most definitely. But the key is to spend forever with the right person. Otherwise, immortality is highly overrated."
She flexed her shoulders and looked down at her lap, letting her gaze wander over his muscular thighs on either side of her hips. “Just now, the present is enough for me."
His arms closed around her, and she shivered with thoughts of kissing him. No. More than just kissing him. Thoughts of exploring Ellory Benedikt made her ache.
His warm whisper tickled her ear and turned her thrumming insides upside down. “But if you found the person you're meant for and knew you could be together forever...."
She turned and looked up at him again. How could he set her on fire with just a look? “Maybe you'd better just say what's on your mind."
"Excellent idea."
His mouth descended, and the world fragmented into a thousand pockets of silence.
His kiss was the barest caress, its gentleness more consuming than if he'd devoured her. She wanted more. She opened her mouth, and his tongue made deft overtures she couldn't resist. Their breaths mingled in gasps.
"Ellory,” she murmured, “I'm not sure this is a good idea."
"Without further research, Ms. Davies, I must dismiss that remark as pure conjecture."
She smiled against his mouth. “Tell me when you come to a valid conclusion."
He nibbled aside the neckline of her sweatshirt. “I may have to delve deeper."
Talisen flinched as the throb between her legs became a miserable tease, and she lay back against Ellory. This moment, this man, this roller-coaster ride of emotion—it all seemed suddenly precious. Hallowed ground. Ellory was the bridge to something she wanted desperately to get to.
A breath of danger, inebriating and captivating, hovered over her for a moment and then covered her completely. She felt his teeth and tongue dance along the cradle of her throat and shoulder.
A flicker of pain startled her, and she flinched away with a laugh. “Ellory!"
He turned his head aside. “Forgive me."
He sounded so tense. Talisen looked over her shoulder at him, but she couldn't see his face. She ran her palm over the place he had nipped her. It felt like a bee-sting. “No big deal. I'm sure you've had your shots."
He grunted as if she'd just elbowed him in the ribs, eased off the piano bench and was halfway to the door before she had moved. “I need to go out for awhile."
Go out? After kissing her like that? “Hey, hold on."
He halted in the door of the living room but didn't turn around. “I won't be long."
Talisen caught up with him and reached for his hand to turn him around. He faced her slowly. His face was pale, but his eyes were big and dark and beautiful and—stern.
She dropped his hand. What was wrong? He'd just gotten a little carried away. Maybe he'd gone further with all of this than he wanted. Yes. Maybe he was having second thoughts. Maybe he thought she wasn't up to it.
A lump swelled in her throat. “Look, I don't know where this is headed, but I want to find out. It's not like someone's waiting up for me to come home. I'm my own person."
His gaze softened, and he lifted his hand to her face and touched his forehead to hers. She had no other word for what she saw in his eyes but reverence. “Then ... there are things you need to know."
"So start talking."
"When I come back."
He kissed her again and stepped into the front hall.
The sound of the front door closing brought Talisen back to earth like an iron kite. The strangling quiet in the room was utterly at odds with her screaming nerves. She blew out a sigh. The pleasing throb inside her turned to a stab. Geeze, she had it bad.
Shelby came down the stairs. “Where'd Ellory go?"
"I don't know, baby.” Talisen picked her up. “He just had to go out."
The little girl stared disconsolately at the front door. “Oh, that."
"Hey, would you help me with something?” Talisen set her down and took her hand. “I picked up my mail today at the post office, but I haven't opened any of it, yet. There's a lot."
That got a shrug out of Shelby. “I don't read good, yet."
"You open envelopes, and I'll read. Okay?"
Shelby nodded and scooted upstairs ahead of her. They sat cross-legged on Talisen's bed and piled the mail between them. Shelby opened most of it with minimal damage to the contents.
"Hey, here's a big one.” She ripped the end off the small padded envelope.
Talisen took the brown envelope from her and read the name of the sender. Her Great Uncle Bill Rudyard. She peeled the envelope open, blew into it, and extracted a wad of papers and—
"One of Ellory's programs!” exclaimed Shelby. She seized the yellowed, brittle slip of paper and pointed to a symbol at the top of it. “See, it's got his thingy on it."
"Logo,” supplied Talisen. “A black swan?"
"Yeah, just like on his CDs. Georgina has tons of them, one from every concert Ellory ever gave. I wonder if she has this one. Look. He signed it. Isn't that Ellory's name?"
Talisen stared. It was definitely Ellory's handwriting. She recognized it from the note he'd written to her when she'd be
en staying at the Benedikt. But he'd signed it “Art Benedikt.” When she read the date on the program, she did a double-take. “No, honey, this isn't one of Ellory's. It can't be. It's dated April 3, 1928. That's before Ellory was born."
Shelby's bewilderment silenced her initial exuberance. Suddenly, she wiggled off the bed and headed out the door. Talisen gave her a distracted glance and read Great Uncle Bill's letter. He'd meant to send his notes to Grandma months ago. Now he wanted Talisen to have them.
She put a hand to her mouth, unfolding the neatly typed notes in her lap. Great Uncle Bill was a retired music teacher, and he'd spent his lifetime following the musical heritage of the Rudyards down through the ages.
Grandma had wanted copies of his findings to corroborate two centuries of alleged posthumous sightings of Ellory Arthur Benedikt. Great Uncle Bill chalked it all up to reincarnation.
The bed dipped, and Shelby landed with a kerplop. She shoved a large scrapbook into Talisen's lap. “Georgina says these are a secret, but I know I can show you without asking her first, since you're Ellory's friend."
Talisen thumbed through the scrapbook until swans swam before her eyes. Decades of them. The name on the programs varied—Art Benedikt, Ben Arthur, E.B Arthur, Art Benedikt again, and on and on. The variations of his name repeated like a litany. The dates of the concerts also varied. The earliest one was October 17, 1942. A benefit for the war effort. The war in question, of course, was WWII.
"Wanna see the rest?” asked Shelby.
Talisen met her gaze. “There are more?"
"Just the old ones."
Naturally, Ellory would be interested in ancestors who shared his name and his passion for music. This collection indicated that, and Shelby was confused and thought all these programs were Ellory's.
"Shelby, most of these are older than Ellory is. They can't all be his."
"But Georgina says they are."
"Maybe you got it wrong, baby?"
Shelby's brown eyes flashed. “Did not! She took me to her bedroom in the cellar and showed them to me. All of them."
Talisen gave the little girl a chiding smile. “You're pulling my leg, now. Georgina doesn't sleep in the cellar."
Shelby's face turned beet red. Crocodile tears filled her eyes, and she squirmed off the bed and dashed out. Her bedroom door slammed before Talisen could catch up with her.
At Shelby's door, she knocked softly. “Honey, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings."
There was silence and then, “I wasn't supposed to tell about the cellar. Not anybody. It's real important."
She sighed. “I'm sure it's okay. I'm going to be here for awhile, and ... well, it's really all right for me to know."
The door opened slowly. Shelby wiped the tears out of her eyes, her face blotchy and her mouth crinkling.
"Baby, don't cry.” Talisen knelt and pulled her into her arms. “No one would ever be mad at you. Mistakes are how we learn, and this is such a little one."
"It's not little.” Shelby sobbed so hard she wheezed. “He said never—ever—tell anyone about the cellar. If he finds out I told you, I'll be in big trouble!"
"If who finds out, baby?"
The child drew back to meet her gaze. Her lip trembled and she squeaked, “Ellory."
Talisen didn't even bother trying to hide her surprise. She'd seen how Ellory was with Shelby. His tenderness was one of the things she found irresistible about him.
She gave the child a reassuring smile. “We'll just keep this whole thing to ourselves."
Shelby wiped her nose with her sleeve. “He knows everything. What we're thinking, where we are, what we're doing. That's so nothing bad happens to us."
Talisen tried not to smile. As awesome as Ellory was, it was no wonder he seemed larger-than-life to a four-year-old who idolized him. Shelby probably thought he could work miracles.
She smoothed the little girl's hand out on her own palm. Cocking her head to one side, she eyed the tiny fingernails with lavender chips of polish. “Nice color."
"Delfina did them for me.” Shelby sniffed. “My toes, too."
"You know, everyone loves you so much. Maybe the cellar's not safe for you, and that's why you can't go down there."
Shelby shook her head. “No, it's real nice. That's where everybody sleeps, except me and Sean and you."
Talisen took one look at the little girl's sincere face and swallowed her next remark. Shelby had to be making this up.
"Maybe you should put Georgina's scrapbook back. Then we'll forget about this and do some more coloring."
Shelby retrieved the scrapbook from Talisen's room and headed for the stairs without another word.
But what if there was something down there that really could hurt her?
Talisen caught up with her at the landing. “I'm coming with you. It won't make a difference if I see the place, now that I know about it."
Shelby looked unconvinced, but she didn't argue. Talisen followed her downstairs.
On the ground floor, they opened a door in the stairwell. Fond memories of Nancy Drew flashed through Talisen's mind. The light from the hall behind them revealed a short flight of stairs that bottomed-out at yet another door. To the left of the door, in the wall, the ghostly red light of an electronic security lock blinked at them in the darkness.
Talisen's nonchalance slipped away. What in the world did Ellory keep in the cellar that required such precautions?
She watched Shelby step gingerly down the steps. The child stood on tiptoes at the lock and punched in a succession of numbers with nimble fingers. The security light blinked green, and a soft beep sounded. Shelby turned the doorknob with both hands, and the door opened with the grating sound of wood on metal. They stepped inside, and she closed it behind them.
It was dark, the air cool and damp. Goosebumps rippled across Talisen's skin from her scalp to her heels. Despite the carpet underfoot, it felt just like a crypt. She almost caught Shelby's hand and walked right out again.
She heard the child groping along a wall to their right, and suddenly light flooded her eyes. She blinked at a long corridor ahead of them. A series of doors stood open on the right side. There was one door on the left. It was closed. The corridor ended in a larger room that she could see part of from where they stood.
For some reason, she felt like keeping her voice low. “I take back everything I said."
She followed Shelby to the last door on the right, but left her there to peek at the big room at the end of the hall. It looked like another den. There was a large fridge in one corner. It was wrapped in a three-inch-thick chain and padlocked. That was bound to be for Shelby's safety. Why else would they lock a spare refrigerator?
The couches and chairs were the overstuffed kind, all of the same indeterminable shade of brown. There were a few tables cluttered with candles. No TV. No stereo. No computer. No books or magazines. No posters or pictures on the walls. The pinball machine in the corner stood dark and silent.
There was only one exit, a nondescript wooden door. She tried the knob. A fiery tingle licked up her arm all the way to her teeth. “Ouch!"
She snatched her hand back and shook it hard. Out of the blue, the mark on her neck came alive. Its prickling woke a deeper vibration in her loins, and she flinched against it.
"Ouch again,” she muttered, her heartbeat filling her head.
Frustration nibbled at her. She reached for the knob again and got another nasty little jolt. This time she stuck her hand in her mouth and sucked on it, waiting for the fire to go away. It was just painful enough to dissuade her from trying again.
She rubbed the mark on her neck and cleared her throat hard. “Shelby, what's with this stupid doorknob?"
Shelby came out of Georgina's room. “It's something Ellory did to it to keep out burglars. We're not supposed to touch it when we're home alone."
Talisen flexed her hand to get rid of the numbness. No wonder they didn't want Shelby coming down here. “Where does this door lead?"
That sounded normal enough. “Bicycles?"
"Motorcycles.” Shelby made a face. “I have to ride in Sean's sidecar. But my helmet's got purple bunnies on it. They're stickers. Sean put them on it when I was little."
"So, is that what you guys do for fun? Go biking?"
"Yeah, at night. Wanna see the game room? It used to be the attic. We've got a pool table. That's where Ellory's studio is, too."
"Sure. In a minute.” Talisen pointed at the chained fridge. “Anything kept in there?"
"Medicine. They all have to take it sometimes."
Did they have a common illness, then? Talisen followed Shelby back up the corridor, glancing into the rooms.
More candles. They each had the same furnishings, except for the beds. The bathroom was little more than a closet.
She paused at the lone door across from the others.
"That's Ellory's room,” said Shelby.
Talisen was beset by a fit of curiosity—curiosity mixed with desire. Ellory's room. She had to look. She twisted the doorknob slowly, pushed the door open and went in.
His woody, musky scent filled the cool air within. The light from the corridor revealed some of its furnishings. The fireplace was big. The chair beside it was big. The wardrobe was big. The bookcase that lined one wall was big. The bed was an ancient-looking oaken monstrosity with burgundy covers, dark finish and massive posts a head taller than Talisen. She felt like Goldilocks invading Papa Bear's inner sanctum.
Ellory had a shower of his own in one corner and a small lamp on a table beside the chair. There were candles in wall sconces. Besides the books, the only personal item in the room was the old brass sextant on the bedside table.
She crossed the room to look at a seascape hanging over the fireplace. The lighting didn't allow for discerning details, but she could make out the rolling sea and the sleek clipper riding the waves.
Shelby let out a sudden squeal. Talisen spun to look at her. The little girl stood in the hallway with her hands clapped over her mouth, staring at the back door and bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"What is it?” Talisen asked, joining her in the corridor.