by K. R. Willis
Properly scolded, I sat perfectly still while she felt my forehead.
“You look better. Skin feels good again. Touch and go for a while.” She grabbed for my sheet with arthritic fingers, but I snatched it away. No way would I let her pull off the covers until I knew if I was naked underneath. She rolled her eyes as well as any teenager I’d seen and turned away. “There is food in kitchen. If you hungry follow me, if not, wait here till Mr. Trevelyan comes see you tonight.”
Leo.
My mind reeled and I suddenly remembered what had happened. “Leo’s alive? Where is he?” I glanced under the covers and saw that yes, I was somewhat dressed in a silk nightgown, so I threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. My head rebelled at my sudden exuberance, but I didn’t care, I’d done it. Leo hadn’t died because of me—one less stain to mar my soul.
“As alive as Mr. Trevelyan has ever been. Thanks to you, I hear. He asks you wait till this evening when he can rise before you leave. He would like to speak with you.” She turned and left the room.
“Wait.” I trotted after her as fast as my pounding head would allow. Despite her age, she shuffled rather quickly down a long hallway. When she realized I followed, she slowed her pace to allow me to walk next to her.
“What happened? Where are Leo and Arnaud?”
She turned wise old eyes toward me. “I may answer some of your questions, but Mr. Trevelyan will answer the rest.”
She didn’t say anything else so I took the hint and looked around. The house was magnificent. Antique furnishings and French influenced artwork filled every room I could see. Marble pillars topped with busts carved from the same stone lined the hall every ten feet or so that eventually led us into the kitchen. Compared with the opulence I’d just seen in the hallway, the kitchen was definitely more utilitarian, its design set up more for hard use as a gathering and eating place—which seemed odd, considering Leo was a vampire.
A wrought-iron bistro-style table and chairs stood off to the right. In the center of the room, a wrought-iron chandelier hung above the butcher-block island with copper pots suspended from it. Though the pots had obviously been used for countless years, they had lovingly been polished until they gleamed and reflected the light coming from the overhead recessed lights.
“Wow. This place is amazing. It must have cost a small fortune.” I hadn’t pegged the 200-year-old vampire as someone with such modern tastes and style, but then again, I didn’t know the guy.
“Yes, dear. Leo has been around a long time. He’s become quite wealthy, and has collected many fine things from around the world, though it is not nice to speak of such things.” She gave me a warning look from the opposite side of the counter. I pictured her using that same scolding tone with Leo and had to stifle my laugh.
“I’m sorry; it’s just that I’ve never seen anything so extravagant before.” It hadn’t been my intention to offend anyone.
She waved her hand to dismiss my apology. “Raimondo will fix you whatever you want to eat while you are here,” she offered just as a middle-aged man walked into the kitchen.
A short, pudgy man with dark hair limped toward me and offered his hand. He had one of those corkscrew-style mustaches that made me think of a little cartoon chef from TV. He wore a chef’s apron and hat, adding to the image. I fought the urge to smile.
“I am Raimondo, Amina’s son. Anything you need from kitchen, you let me know, okay?”
“Thank you. I’m Keira Blackwater, nice to meet you both.” I shook their hands. “So Amina, how about some of those answers you promised?”
“Of course, sit while Raimondo fixes you a bowl of stew.” She motioned to one of the barstools that surrounded the island.
“Yes, please.” My stomach rumbled loudly at the mention of food, and that prompted my first question. “Okay, so how long have I been here? My stomach sounds like a hungry lion, so it’s obviously been awhile since I’ve had anything to eat.”
I hopped up on one of the barstools, and nearly drooled on myself when Raimondo set the steaming bowl of stew down in front of me with a full sleeve of crackers. Embarrassing myself, I squeaked with pure joy when he also set down a large glass of iced tea to go with it.
“Will this do?” Raimondo asked.
“If I wasn’t so hungry, I’d kiss you.”
Raimondo beamed—and maybe blushed a little, too—then went to work washing the few dishes he’d created.
Amina took the barstool next to me and watched me dive into my bowl. “Mr. Trevelyan brought you here just before dawn on Friday morning. Today is Sunday.”
I almost choked on the bite of stew in my mouth. “Three days! Are you serious? Does anyone know where I am?” Sally and Sam must be going out of their minds with worry.
“It’s all right,” she crooned. “Mr. Trevelyan called your friends and told them what happened and that you would stay with him for a few days. They’ve been calling every day and checking on you.” Her face softened and she patted my hand reassuringly.
“Like I said, it was touch and go for a while. We bandaged the wound on your leg, and made you as comfortable as possible. Mr. Trevelyan kept vigil over you at night, rarely leaving your side till the sunlight forced him away. I’ve never seen him behave in such a manner.” She smiled at me affectionately. I looked away, choosing instead to stare down at my stew. She obviously cared for Leo very much. If she found out that Leo had almost died because of me, she wouldn’t be so nice.
“So why did he bring me here, instead of taking me to a hospital?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“That question is for Mr. Trevelyan.” She slid off her barstool and refilled my tea. “Why don’t you finish your stew, then I give you a tour of the estate and show you where you may relax while you wait for him.”
I nodded and dug back in to my stew, eager to see more of the vampire’s remarkable home. Any chance to learn more about my mysterious rescuer and catch glimpses of history was too much to pass up. Plus, it would give me something to do while I waited for the sun to go down and Leo could answer the rest of my questions about what happened.
After finishing my bowl and downing the last of the tea, I leaned back and sighed. Delicious. I turned to Amina and asked, “So how did you and Raimondo come to know Leo and work for him?”
She stood a little straighter and raised her head. “Mr. Trevelyan saved life of one of my ancestors, who, as payment, swore him service. Even after learning Mr. Trevelyan was vampire, my ancestor stayed. Mr. Trevelyan is good to us, so each subsequent generation serves him, even though the debt was paid long ago.” Pride filled her words. “Would you like that tour now?”
“Oh.” I’d almost forgotten. “Yes, very much.” Her story, combined with the fact he’d saved my life, gave me a new perspective on Leo. The power-hungry asshole I’d originally viewed him as no longer seemed to fit.
I thanked Raimondo and then followed Amina out into the grand living area. She led me through the house, telling a brief history of each room, and where the décor came from. Spectacular in its opulence, it made me feel out of place. My upbringing had been very modest, nothing compared to this.
Amina offered to show me the gardens, and I gladly accepted. On our way to the front door, I glanced and saw my reflection in a very large full-length mirror hanging on the wall. I stumbled and almost busted my ass on the marble floor, but managed to catch myself on a little sofa table nearby.
What the…? I backed up and stared at myself in the mirror. Something was different. The beautiful silk nightgown I wore clung to my curves in all the right places, and my long black hair hung loose down my back in a sleep-tousled, but nice sort of way. I realized someone must have brushed it since I’d been bedridden for three days and it wasn’t a total mess, but that wasn’t it. There was something else.
It suddenly dawned on me. Oh, shit! I raised the nightgown, completely forgetting any modesty and saw what was missing. Rya! My tattoo was gone.
Amina saw my panicked
look and asked, “What’s wrong? Are you all right, dear?”
“Where’s Rya? Where’s my puma?” My voice rose with my heart rate, and I nearly flashed Amina when I lifted the nightgown in my attempt to find her.
“You mean your cat? She is in woods out back of house hunting and staying out of trouble. She appeared shortly after you did, and we have looked after her. She and Mr. Trevelyan get along well, so at night, she hangs out with him and watches over you. Though no one seems quite sure where she came from.”
My heart pounded in my chest. Rya. I would finally get to meet her. Without even asking, I bounded out the front door, ran around to the back of the house, and started yelling her name.
“Rya! Rya where are you? It’s me!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, not caring if anyone else heard me, or saw me parading around in a silk nightgown. As I stopped to catch my breath, something akin to a woman screaming echoed across the yard from the woods. I looked up.
I am here! Her feminine voice whispered across my thoughts, startling me. Then I saw her emerge from the tree line. She was the most beautiful puma I’d ever seen.
She stood about two and a half feet at the shoulders, and her coat was a tawny brown color with black accents around her eyes and face. Not an ounce of fat could be found on her lean, muscular body. She threw her head back and screamed again, which sent chills down my spine, then she loped off across the yard straight toward me.
Complete and utter joy consumed me as I ran to meet her. When she reached me, she tackled me playfully and we rolled on the grass together. It felt wonderful. Twenty-two years of anticipation finally answered in the most remarkable, yet simple, way. She licked my face and head-butted me, purring, while I petted and scratched her all over. It was like being loved on by an affectionate house cat, except this one weighed about 150 pounds.
Don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you here? I asked with my mind. My father had told me about the telepathic ability that came with each Spirit Warrior that allowed us to converse with each other, but it still felt very strange.
When you saved Leo, you more or less died in the same manner my old master did. She plopped herself in the grass, belly first, and nudged my hand when I stopped petting her. Once satisfied, she continued. Upon your death, I was released from your body and returned to the Great One as all Spirit Warriors do when their masters die.
Not all, I interjected.
Hmmm?
You didn’t. When Raging Buffalo gave his life to save me as a baby, you became mine instead of following him. Father had told me bits and pieces about that night, but not all of it.
Yes, this is true. When my master thrust his essence into you to save your life, he willed me to follow that essence and watch over you. That became my new purpose. Now, if I may continue. She didn’t wait for a response. When you died, I appeared before the Great One for judgment, and this is when he whispered to me that it was not your time, that your task has not yet been completed. He breathed life back into you. Told me I could stay with you, that you have proven yourself to him as a warrior, so Leo and I watched over you while you rested.
Wait. What do you mean, my task is not complete? What task? I had no idea what she was talking about.
It is not my place to tell you. You need to speak with your father. She started licking her paws, effectively dismissing me.
“Why does everyone keep telling me to speak with my father?” I mumbled aloud.
Because it is truth, and you have not done so yet. He has much to tell you. She sounded as if she was scolding me, and I laughed. I couldn’t help it. A large magical puma, that up until three days ago had been a tattoo, but now sat not two feet away from me giving herself a tongue bath, scolded me.
A thought skittered across my mind. I grinned. Wanna play? I asked and then took off across the lawn. The soft grass squished between my toes as I tried my damnedest not to trip on the nightgown. I never heard a sound, just suddenly went tumbling to the ground, laughing the whole way.
We spent the rest of the afternoon playing in the yard, getting to know one another. It was amazing to finally meet and speak with her. Amina and Raimondo came out and watched us for a while, then left us to have our fun alone.
The sun had just started to set behind the trees when a familiar voice startled me. “Hello, Keira.” There was some kind of emotion present when he said my name, but I couldn’t quite place it. “I am glad to see you are awake and have met your cat.”
Leo! My heart somersaulted in my chest as I turned to face the man who had saved my life, only for me to sacrifice mine to save his.
CHAPTER 11
He stood several feet away just outside the last rays of sunlight. He had his hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, and he wore a pair of chocolate breeches and a white cotton twill shirt. My pulse quickened. The man looked as though he’d just stepped off the cover of a Harlequin romance novel.
“How are you feeling?” I froze as he walked up to me and pulled several pieces of grass from my hair. The sensation of his fingers delicately combing through each strand sent shivers down my spine.
“Aside from a slight headache, I feel much better, thank you.” I tilted my head and inspected the spot on Leo’s neck where Jeremy had ripped it out. Nothing remained of the horrendous wound, not even a scar. “What about you?”
His face darkened. “As you can see, I am fine.” He turned his back to me and walked a few feet away. “What you did was foolish and irresponsible.” Fueled by his anger, his power lashed out and stung my bare skin.
“What?” I flinched away from the fire-ant sting his power created, but then my own anger sprang forth and gave me the strength to stand my ground. “What the hell are you talking about? I saved your ass back there and this is the thanks I get?” I snorted. “You know, I was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t the royal jerk I thought you were, but as it turns out, I was—”
He was on me in an instant, cutting me off mid rant. I tensed, ready to fight, as his muscular arms wrapped around me. Their strength immeasurable, yet so gentle in how they held me. Then his soft lips pressed to mine, and I jerked back, startled.
“What are you doing?” I asked, confused. I hadn’t expected him to kiss me. I think I would have been less surprised if the man had bitten me.
Leo leaned away, letting about a foot of space open up between us. “My apologies. I…never mind.” He shook his head and straightened, letting his arms drop. “If you will excuse me. I have not yet fed this evening. There is a village not far from here. I will return soon and we will speak. You may wait in the library if you wish, straight through those doors.” He raised his arm and pointed to a set of French doors ahead of us, then disappeared.
“Wait!” But he was gone. Only the silence of the trees remained. My head spun from his kiss. Had he really just kissed me? Why? What game did he play?
My feet picked up an angry rhythm as they padded across the grass, back and forth, back and forth in a small rectangular block that squished cool grass between my toes. What was his angle? Was he really that grateful for me saving him that his entire perception of me had changed, or was his goal to get my defenses down so he could swoop in and get his hands on the shop? I didn’t know Leo enough to know which one it was.
Rya’s laughter echoed across my thoughts.
I stopped pacing. “What’s so funny?” I asked her out loud. She lazed in the grass by the patio licking her paws, with her tail swishing back and forth, assaulting several helpless peonies planted along the border.
You liked it, she teased. That’s the only reason you are angry.
“I did not,” I protested. “The man is a menace.”
Sure. Her amusement was unmistakable. That’s why you saved his life.
I saved his life because he almost died saving mine. I couldn’t have that on my conscience. Too many deaths already resided there. I didn’t need to add any more.
Rya didn’t say anything else. She jus
t went back to licking her paws and assaulting the peonies. Had the kiss been bad? No. Quite the opposite, if I let myself be honest. His soft lips tasted of honey. Something I hadn’t expected from a vampire, though I don’t really know what I expected since I’d never thought about it. I shook my head, trying to clear the confusing fog blanketing my mind.
A brisk wind ruffled my nightgown and chilled my skin, making me rub my hands up and down my arms. The sun had completely set, and lights all around the cobblestone patio lit automatically, drawing my eyes to the French doors Leo had indicated. I didn’t know how long Leo would be gone so I decided to take his advice and get out of the cool night air.
As soon as I opened the French doors leading into Leo’s library, Rya brushed past me. Her large paws made no sound as she padded across the travertine tile toward the fireplace. She plopped down on a camel-colored fur rug in front of the hearth, and made herself at home, as though she’d been here before. Considering she spent three days hanging out with Leo waiting for me to wake up, perhaps she had.
Since Rya ignored me in favor of cleaning her tail—did all cats clean themselves so thoroughly?—I decided to take a look around Leo’s library.
Bookshelves covered every wall except the one that held the fireplace. It reminded me of something I’d seen at a university once when I still entertained the idea of college. The walnut bookcases set into the wall at least two feet deep, and they ran from floor to ceiling, with a door on one side that I presumed led into the interior of the house, and the French doors behind me that led out onto the patio. A worn metal rail ran along the top, with a matching wooden ladder attached to it that allowed people access to the books on the top shelves.
My fingers skimmed lightly across several of the tattered and frayed bindings, careful not to add any more damage. Judging by just what I touched, Leo possessed first edition printings of some of the rarest books in the world: Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare, one of my personal favorites; The Life of Jeanne D’Arc, or Joan of Arc, as most people knew her. I could no longer read the author’s name as it had been rubbed into obscurity from centuries of individuals holding the spine of the book in their hand as they read.