Merrick

by Claire Cray

  “I appreciate it,” I admitted, but couldn’t help adding, “I hope you appreciate what I’ve done.”

  “Hmph.” Theo leaned back against the wall and crossed one ankle over the other. “It’ll be easy enough to have him all to yourself.” He lifted his chin. “I’ll appreciate it when he’s speaking to me again.”

  “You poor thing.”

  “Shut up, you mouthy little ass. God knows what he sees in you besides your looks,” Theo huffed. He pushed away from the wall and went for the door. “Twilight at last,” he said with a sigh of relief, and took his jacket from the hook near the door. He shrugged it on, snapped the lapels, and turned on his heel to face me again. Spreading his hands, he sank into a bow. “Enjoy your evening, Lacy.”

  “Enjoy yours.”

  Theo straightened and flicked an invisible hair from his brow, fixing me with a final smirk before he turned and left the cottage.

  Chapter 28

  When I finally returned to the bedroom, Merrick was nowhere to be seen. And so, once again, I took up a lantern and headed into the depths of the cave.

  I had been right about the door. I stepped over the heap of splintered wood, wondering vaguely what Merrick had thought when he’d found the padlock hanging loosely from the latch that day.

  Remembering my first visit to the cave, I shivered. But I supposed I’d have to get used to the dark if I was to become a vampire.

  I’d made my peace with it for the moment. After the door had closed behind Theo, I had poured myself a cup of tea and sat there at the table going over all that had transpired.

  Perhaps it was reasonable, what Merrick said. He had lived for centuries. And truly, I wasn’t eager to become a vampire. I quite liked the sunlight, after all, and I had always hoped to avoid killing anyone.

  But it wouldn’t be all that bad, would it? Merrick walked in the daylight, as long as he kept his skin covered. And he’d mentioned drinking the blood of animals. I could surely stomach that! Besides, to live for centuries – that was a thrilling thought. I had always wanted a life full of experiences, hadn’t I?

  The one thing I worried about was my poor mother. What would she think? Of course, I could see her at night and indoors, but I was sure she would know something was amiss. Well, I simply wouldn’t tell her. I hoped she would forgive me for that.

  The passage opened to the cavern. I turned around with my lantern, finding no one. Had Merrick sneaked out through one of the passages? I sighed softly. My eyes went to the coffin.

  What was the meaning of that thing, anyway? I approached, wondering. Surely it had some purpose rather than scaring me witless.

  I caught sight of the writing desk out of the corner of my eye, and saw that the letters had disappeared. Of course, it had been nearly three weeks now since I’d stuck my nose in them, so it made sense that they might naturally had been moved elsewhere; but, I couldn’t help cringing a little imagining how my intrusion might have displeased Merrick.

  And what about now? Had I displeased him? Was he as angry with me as he had seemed with Theo? I was gloomy at the thought.

  Idly, I reached down and lifted the lid of the coffin.

  There was someone inside!

  Terror gripped me and I nearly slammed the lid shut before I realized that it was Merrick himself.

  He was resting on his back, his hands folded on his stomach, his eyes closed and his face relaxed.

  I blinked down at him, bewildered. What was this about?

  “Opening coffins, William?”

  “Jesus,” I blurted, and very nearly dropped the lid this time. I caught it just in time and held it open, my heart pounding. I swore. “Just took a year off my life,” I muttered beneath my breath, putting a hand to my chest.

  Merrick opened his eyes and fixed me with an even look.

  Poor choice of words. I cleared my throat awkwardly, then pushed the lid up completely so that it stayed open.

  “I’m beginning to think your curiosity is a serious affliction,” he said in a low, hollow tone.

  “Oh, sir,” I groaned softly, “Please don’t be angry with me. I could not bear it.”

  He didn’t reply.

  I tried to keep my battered heart afloat by changing the subject. “Why are you in a coffin? Do you sleep here?”

  “Something like that,” he said in the same flat, unaffected voice. “It is a quiet place to think.”

  He looked even more tired than he had just an hour ago. In fact, he almost seemed to have aged. His cheeks and eyes were beginning to look slightly hollow. “Sir,” I said hesitantly.

  “You don’t need to call me that.”

  “What shall I call you?”

  “Whatever you like.”

  Oh, he was so very unhappy with me. It felt like a needle in my chest. “Why don’t you go out to eat?” I paused. “Or do you say drink?”

  “I will go shortly.” His lips thinned for a moment. “After all, I can hardly afford to let myself waste away now that Theo stands ready to kill you straight. A fine, simple plan, I must say. He might not have come up with it on his own.”

  I sank to a crouch beside the coffin with a soft, despairing groan, gripping the edge. “What would you have me do?” I begged. “I couldn’t bear the thought of your destruction. Would you hold that against me?”

  “I cannot understand why you would sacrifice so much for a man you’ve just met.”

  “We’ve just met, have we?” I murmured. “Well, then. I suppose this thing between us is flimsy, indeed.”

  He kept his gaze on mine, and smiled faintly at my sarcasm. It did not reach his eyes.

  “I thought my love was a comfort to you, sir,” I whispered, forgetting not to call him that. Slowly, I reached into the coffin and brushed a shining lock of hair from his smooth brow.

  When he did not respond, I dropped my head with a sigh. My hand stayed at his neck, toying with a tendril of his hair. And then, impulsively, I climbed into the coffin and lay on top of him.

  He shifted, startled, and put his hands to my waist. “William.”

  In a true act of boldness, I pulled the lid shut. Then, catching his chin with my hand, I pressed my lips to his.

  He softened beneath me for a moment, even moving his lips against mine, before he put his hands on my cheeks and pulled me back. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

  I blinked in the perfect darkness. “Suppose I might need a quiet place to think, myself, sir.” I caught myself again. “Merrick.” I licked my lips, searching for his taste, and felt his cool breath upon them.

  His hands moved down to my hips, squeezing gently. “It isn’t over, William.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I shifted for a more comfortable position. There was enough room for me to settle my knees on either side of his legs.

  One of his hands moved up beneath my shirt to stroke my spine. The other moved further around my hip and took a slow squeeze. “I will not turn you as easily as that. I will savor every moment of your mortal life. I will not rush to turn you just because of this ridiculous scheme.”

  “If you say so,” I whispered, and felt my lips graze his. In the dark, it was hard to tell how close our faces were…but it was impossible to ignore how tightly our bodies fit together at the hip. My cheeks grew warm.

  He kissed me again, softly, and then brushed his lips over my cheek. “Are you blushing?”

  “Might be, sir.” Sir, again! That would be a hard habit to break, it seemed. And it wasn’t the only one. It seemed my body knew only one way to react when it met with his. In this position, there was no hiding it.

  Nor was there reason to, it seemed. Merrick groaned softly beneath his breath and caught my lips for another kiss, and this time his mouth was insistent.

  I melted against him as his hands roamed my body, squeezing and grasping. They worked themselves under my breeches and grabbed my buttocks, squeezing and kneading and grinding me against him as he rocked beneath me. I gasped against his mouth, and moaned
when he plunged his tongue into mine and gave another slow, torturous roll of his hips that sent a shudder of need through my entire body.

  The coffin – the coffin! – had grown quite hot without my noticing, and I shivered at the rush of cool, fresh air that hit when Merrick reached up and threw the lid back. He sat up, pushing me upright with my thighs around his hips, all the while devouring me with his hungry kiss. I moved against him, wanting things I still didn’t know how to put into words.

  “Did you think of me, William?” he breathed, and grazed my bottom lip with his teeth before sucking it gently. His hand was moving down to the front of my breeches.

  “I’ve not stopped since the day I saw you,” I managed to reply, before my head fell back with a wanton sound I hardly recognized. His fingers teased me cleverly, dancing along the length and lingering in places that made me shiver and moan. My hips moved shamelessly for more of his touch.

  He twined his fingers in my hair, moving his hips up against me as his other hand stroked me up and down. “You will be bound to me again,” he breathed into my ear. His hands tightened in both places.

  I cried out roughly, digging my fingers into his shoulders and grinding down on the stiff bulge in his lap. The feel of it was shocking, obscene, and torturously good. When I heard a quiet growl of pleasure escape his lips, I slammed my mouth to his in a bruising kiss.

  He broke free, gasping, and held me at bay by his handful of my hair. His lips were dark with blood – I had carelessly cut myself upon his teeth.

  “Do it again.” I felt the same sharp hunger I had felt that night, only now I knew what dark and delirious pleasure his bite would bring.

  “You are mad,” he breathed, but the words were taut with desire. And when I grabbed his hair and pulled his face to my throat, he groaned and raked his fingers down my back. “God, William…” His fangs scraped my throat.

  I flew skywards. Everything disappeared but the man who held my body in his hands, whose bite pierced my very soul and flooded my system with a sensation too vast and overpowering for words.

  I fell limply against him, moaning as the last tremors left my body. Consciousness returned more easily than before, and I guessed he had not drunk as much this time.

  I lifted my head to look at his face, and he opened his eyes. To my relief, they had recovered some of their brilliance. “Such beautiful eyes you have, s…”

  His lips twitched with amusement. “You may call me that, if you’re so attached to it,” he teased gently.

  My heart swelled. There was the voice I had missed, the gentle tone and the calm, pleased gaze. I laid my hand upon his cheek, looking down into his lovely eyes and soaking up the sight of it.

  How terrible it had been to lose him. How horrified I’d been tonight at the thought of his destruction. How it pained me to see him tired and miserable, to hear of his suffering!

  A little crease appeared between his brows. “What’s the matter, William?”

  “I want to be at your side,” I whispered. “I do not want you to suffer. Don’t drive me away again. I beg you. It will ruin me.”

  His soft frown did not vanish. He smoothed my hair, searching my face. “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I have never felt such pain in my heart.” It was true. Perhaps it meant I had led a charmed life, but never had I experienced such suffering in my soul as the weeks I had longed for Merrick and wondered why he had cast me aside.

  “I am sorry.” His golden eyes were soft and sad.

  Did he believe me? Did he know the depth of my passion, my love for him?

  “I will not drive you away,” Merrick murmured. “I will savor every moment with you.” He tightened his arms around me, pulling my head to his shoulder and kissing my neck where his bite still tingled faintly. “Every moment,” he whispered. “And I will live to make each moment happier than the last.”

  I nodded, holding him tightly.

  At last I loosened my arms from his shoulders and lifted my head. “You must eat.”

  “Drink,” he corrected at last. He helped me out of the coffin and climbed out after me, picking up the lantern where I’d left it on the ground.

  “Does it simply taste like blood?”

  He laid a gentle hand on my back and guided me back to the passage that led to the cottage. “Yes,” he murmured at length. Then, abruptly, he changed the subject. “I sent word to your mother.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her you returned on a whim.”

  We reached the splintered door. I gave a low whistle as I stepped over it. “A battle was fought and won here, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, well,” he said wryly. “I could not pick the lock.”

  I ducked my chin sheepishly, but smiled a bit when he gently tousled my hair.

  “You will be all right here, William?” he asked once we’d reached the main room.

  “Certainly,” I replied, smiling again. “I’ll just take a bath, and get back to my studies.”

  Merrick pulled me to him for another soft kiss. “Sleep well,” he whispered.

  “Goodnight,” I replied, and watched him disappear.

  Chapter 29

  It was another cool, rainy night. Summer was ending. I was reading in the corner chair by lamplight when the front door flew open. I jumped, turning to look, and then grinned so wide it nearly hurt.

  Theo stood at the threshold, soaked to the bone. His auburn hair hung dripping in his eyes, and his fine clothes hung sopping from his slender limbs. “Get me something dry,” he barked, and lightning flashed behind him. He slammed the door and wrestled off his jacket. “Merde!”

  Laughing under my breath, I went for the bedroom. He looked like a wet cat. I fetched a shirt and breeches from the wardrobe and brought them back to him. He was shirtless now, leaning against the door and struggling to remove his boots. “Help me with these.”

  “You might say please.”

  “S’il vous plait,” he drawled gratingly. He was more muscular than he seemed with clothes on, though he was even slightly more slender and boyish than I was. Some women went crazy for a man like that, as I myself had happily learned.

  “Take them off yourself,” I retorted pleasantly.

  He rolled his eyes, but relented. “Please.”

  I knelt before him, smirking, and helped him pull off the boots.

  “I see you’re still warm and tender,” he said, stripping off his pants.

  I politely averted my eyes, going back to the chair. “So far.”

  “Good for you,” he said.

  The door opened behind him before he had put on his breeches, and he turned to face the hooded figure that appeared there.

  “Shit,” Theo complained. “Could you look more terrifying?”

  Merrick closed the door and pushed back his hood, looking coolly down at Theo. “Could you be less clothed?”

  “I was all wet. You don’t want me to catch pneumonia.”

  I looked between them. It had been two weeks since Theo had promised to disappear, and I wondered if Merrick had forgiven him

  Things had been wonderful since then. We fell back into our old routines: my breakfast and morning walks, both of us reading in the evening, him explaining herbs and blends to me. But now there was so much more. Now he kissed me freely, spontaneously, throughout each day. Now his easy smile came often, and sometimes I made him laugh. And now, I rarely went to bed alone.

  It was ecstasy each time he touched me, whether he bit me or not. He confessed that it frightened him somewhat, that he didn’t want to test his will so often; after that, he simply used his hands and lips to send me soaring.

  I still hadn’t touched him. He stopped me every time, always murmuring that he did not trust himself. Sometimes when I lay wilted and gasping in his arms, I felt the evidence of his unsatisfied need throbbing against me. He tried to hide it, telling me he was entirely fulfilled, and in all honesty, I was too shy yet to press the matter. But I longed to do to
him what he did to me, to see his features go soft and unsteady with pleasure I had given him…

  Merrick looked at me, and I snapped out of my reverie. I’d been gazing at him and daydreaming again, and had completely failed to hear their quiet exchange. Theo was pulling on his breeches now, a sullen look on his face, and in the next moment he stalked into the bedroom.

  “Come,” Merrick said. “Bathe with me.”

  I tried not to jump up too quickly, for that, too, was something he seemed to have avoided since I’d come back, and I thrilled at the thought of sharing that warm and pleasant space with him again – and without our clothes.

  He held his robe around me as we moved quickly to the lean-to, and then he shed the thing and hung it on its hook.

  I removed my own clothes slowly, watching him strip off his shirt to reveal the toned muscles beneath. My pulse quickened when he reached for the front of his breeches, and I turned to remove my own as though I didn’t hunger for the sight of his body. After all, I had only seen it completely bare once before, right here in the lean-to…

  “Are you angry with Theo?” I asked casually.

  The water splashed softly. I laid my breeches over the stool and turned to find him pouring water over his back. My eyes followed the rivulets as they ran down his elegant spine and over the curves of his muscular buttocks. I swallowed.

  “Let’s not speak of it,” he replied calmly.

  It troubled me to think that he would bear a grudge against his friend for preventing his suicide. The fact that I was a participant in Theo’s plot, and could therefore share the brunt of this anger, was less troubling than the thought that Merrick had been so determined to die.

  I tried to put it out of mind, approaching him at the washtub and reaching for the cloth. I lathered it with soap, paused for a moment, and then moved behind him and lifted the rag to his back.

  He turned his head with surprise. “Trading places?” he asked, amused.