I avoided her insistent stare. “I think it’s this way. I hate being back here.”
“I can only imagine.”
Within minutes, we’d found the nursery. With ease of step, I followed Sunaria in. Six-year-old Ricardo slept in a corner bed and appeared well cared for. In the other corner, his nanny snored lightly, a young girl of twenty years or so. On the floor, near the foot of Ricardo’s bed, lay a wooden, broken soldier splayed out. Someone had tried to rip its head off. Ricardo’s penchant for violence left no object safe.
Sunaria nudged me toward him and, with one hand over his mouth, I picked him up, and he squirmed and bit me.
The nanny stirred.
“Go,” Sunaria whispered.
With Ricardo in my arms, I flew out of the window and landed on the lawn behind the far wall and knelt beside him, trying to calm his wails. My hand pressed against his mouth. “I’m taking you to your mother.”
He calmed a little.
I eased my hand off, ready to ram it back if needed.
“Mama’s dead,” Ricardo sobbed.
“Why do you say that?”
“Papa told me.”
“Well, she’s not. She asked me to bring you to her.”
Ricardo made me unbearably uncomfortable. If it weren’t for the fact I adored my sister, I’d have shoved him back into the house. Sunaria came up behind us several minutes later.
There was immediate relief to see her. “What happened?”
“The nanny won’t remember,” she whispered. “I gave her a ‘little drink.’”
After a brief pause, I said, “What?”
Sunaria stared down at Ricardo. From her expression, she didn’t like the boy, either.
“Can nanny come?” Ricardo asked.
Sunaria sighed. “Nanny’s too busy writhing in ecstasy.”
I tapped Sunaria’s arm in disapproval.
By the way Ricardo clutched my hand, Sunaria had scared him. Hoofs clopped along a gravel pathway. We sidled along the wall until we reached the front of the manor.
Sunaria peeked around. “Felipe’s getting in.”
Despite the fact that Ricardo’s teeth gnawed into my hand, I smiled.
* * * *
Aware that Ricardo would soon be in his mother’s arms and out of mine, inspired more speed. The thought of seeing Jacob consumed my thoughts.
We reached the Ocean View Manor by ten in the evening. It was a perfect sanctuary. Sunaria had memorized Miranda’s instructions on how to reach their residence. We arranged to meet afterward, just before sunrise, as Sunaria being with me would invoke even more questions. A cross-examination I wasn’t prepared for. Despite having covered Ricardo’s eyes, the events of the night, which included throwing myself out the window with him in my arms, would have to be explained away if he brought it up.
We passed through an avenue of tall cedars that led to the front of the house. Sunaria rose on her toes and planted a kiss upon my cheek. She knew what lay ahead for me and, through her gesture, assured her support.
Ricardo remained uncharacteristically quiet, not surprising considering the last two hours we’d spent flying through the air at great speed. I’d held him toward me, his face tucked into my jacket to protect him from the wind chill, and the remarkable view.
Lingering at the door, I took a moment to gather my racing thoughts.
The moderately sized house possessed a simple charm. Although not able to see the ocean from the house, the fresh air and occasional seagull that flew overhead revealed we were close. Inland, the property would be safe from the weather, yet close enough to access the beach if one desired the trek down the winding pathway.
I couldn’t fathom why it had been called The Ocean View Manor if it lacked one. A title to impress those who’d never see it, I supposed.
Ricardo tugged on my trouser leg.
When Alicia opened the door, my heart soared. I willed myself not to burst out all that had happened. Sunaria had known I’d face this very challenge. Alicia’s suffering had been great. My woes could not be added to them. Ricardo ran into her arms. A little further in stood Miranda holding Jacob. His face lit up when he saw me. I entered, wary of revealing anything by my movement, and took Jacob from Miranda, nuzzling into his hair, and smelling his familiar baby scent.
Oak logs crackled in the hearth in a nearby room.
The aroma of lamb cooking on the stove, the perfume of soapy lavender imbued from Miranda’s bedroom and rose petals from Alicia’s, and the faint scent of dying lilies, all flooded my senses, mercilessly reminding me that I was now different. They’d been playing cards, and although I didn’t see the deck on the table in the living room, I heard one of the cards tossed up, caught by a breeze from an open window, and then flip over onto the floor.
I closed my mind to Alicia and Miranda’s internal dialogue, respecting their privacy, but also not wanting to know what they really thought about me. My own demons raged within. I didn’t feel ready to face what they might imagine mine were. I wasn’t ready to defend things I had or hadn’t done.
Strangely, I missed Sunaria, her strength, her domineering presence that gave me the time I needed to regroup.
Alicia gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s over now.”
She looked too happy for me to tell her that it wasn’t.
Sparse furniture decorated the interior. This aristocratic retreat was not meant for permanent living but merely a summer retreat. Here in the great house, they had no servants, the ultimate sacrifice for living in secret. They’d exchanged luxury for safety.
Alicia leaned in and hugged me. “Annabelle?” she asked.
I shook my head. “We’ll talk later.”
Alicia’s hand covered her sob. “What happened?”
My mind wandered, trying to guess how close to Palos Felipe’s carriage might be.
Miranda drew in her breath. “You must be hungry.”
The thought of food made me cringe.
Alicia stroked my arm. “You’re tired?”
“He’s been through a lot.” Miranda sounded nervous. “How did you get Ricardo out?”
I shrugged. “I walked into his nursery and took him.”
A shadow of doubt flashed over her. “And no one stopped you?”
“Evidently.” I stared down at Ricardo.
Alicia wrapped her arm in mine and we strolled into the drawing room. Two large couches were placed opposite each other and upon them over-stuffed pillows. I leaned back onto one of them, and despite the lumpiness, I was grateful for the rest, and comforted by the ordinary setting.
“Felipe didn’t have a guard watching Ricardo?” Miranda asked.
I shook my head no.
“You look so pale.” Alicia studied me, as though trying to figure out what was different.
“Tired, that’s all.” I gave a reassuring smile.
Ricardo ran around the room screaming, waving an imaginary sword.
With my jaw clenched, I signaled to him. “Please don’t do that.”
He lunged his sword into an invisible opponent.
“Stop,” I shouted.
Ricardo stood stock-still and stared at me. I’d startled Alicia and Miranda, too.
I rubbed my forehead, easing the tension. “Take him to bed. He’s exhausted.”
Alicia grabbed Ricardo’s hand.
“Alicia, I’m sorry I . . .”
She gave a comforting smile and then took Jacob from me and rested him on her hip.
Just like Annabelle used to do.
“I’ll put them to bed.” She ruffled Ricardo’s hair.
“I’m so very proud of you.”
“Not as proud as I am of you.” Alicia smiled and headed out with the children.
I hoped Ricardo wouldn’t mention his leap out of the nursery window, though I’d ensured he’d seen nothing.
Miranda picked up the bottle resting on the table before us and poured two glasses of white wine and offered me one. “Here, you look like you need it.”<
br />
I gestured I didn’t.
Miranda settled on the couch close to me. “That woman Sunaria warned us before Felipe’s guards came.” She leaned toward me. “She saved our lives.”
I bowed my head. “We owe her our gratitude.”
“How do you know her?”
“I just do.”
“How did she know we were in danger?”
“We were all in danger.”
“Rumors carry, Daumia.”
“What do you mean?”
“While at the senator’s, you were mortally injured.” Her inflection deepened. “I have my spies, remember?”
“Rumors are just that, rumors.”
“The way you look at Ricardo, one would think he caused you some terrible grief.”
“I’m tired, that’s all. I keep thinking of Salvador.”
“He didn’t make it and yet you did?”
“Whatever your spies thought they saw, they were wrong.”
“Ricardo ran his sword into your gut!”
I stared off. “Then I’d be dead.” I rose and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To put my son to bed.” I headed after Alicia.
* * * *
Within the small bedroom, I tucked Jacob in and stroked his hair. He tried so hard to keep his eyelids open, full of excitement over seeing me again. He clutched my hand and I kissed his forehead, my perfect child, so much like his mother. Jacob’s love for me was a much needed boon—innocent, pure affection.
I recalled Eduardo, the way he smiled when I ate a biscuit or his expression when I first sat him in the saddle of one of my smaller, placid horses. Then the awful vision of him lying dead in his mother’s arms, my son gone from me forever. I wiped away a tear, though more fell. I’d been present at his birth, but not at his death. Fathers should die before their sons.
The first night I’d met Salvador, we’d lain on the grassy bank together staring up at the stars, such a perfect moment of intimacy. Salvador had the kindest nature, the ability to say the right thing at the right time and always see the best in people. He’d be the one person who’d know what to do in this situation.
Jacob closed his eyes. With my head in my hands, I let go and sobbed. I missed Annabelle’s touch.
I want my life back.
I tried to disengage from these thoughts, this terrible wave of grief. Strange how my emotions were different, muted, and yet ever present, a constant reminder that I was no longer human. I shook off the melancholy, couldn’t alert Miranda or Alicia that anything was wrong, had to act as though everything was fine and that we might again revisit the contentment we’d once known.
I returned downstairs to join them for supper in the kitchen. The candelabra at the center of the table threw shadows. A homey, rustic décor, a welcoming haven, afforded by the domestic order, suggesting the children might once again feel safe. Though offered food, I declined, but accepted the glass of blackberry wine, the fruity scent wafting beneath my nose. It dawned on me that I may never taste food again. The smell of lamb made me nauseous. Miranda’s cheeks blushed, the liquor apparently warming her.
My attention turned to Alicia. “You’ve hardly eaten.”
Alicia looked up at me. “I was just thinking the same about you.”
Miranda’s stare locked with mine.
Alicia placed her fork down. “I hate Felipe, but he’s the father of my son.”
I rested the rim of my glass on my lower lip and almost sipped.
The sweet taste of revenge.
My imagination spiraled, offering up the darkest fantasy of how it would feel when Felipe looked into my eyes as I stole his life. I’d make him suffer before I let him know death.
“You brought Ricardo home to me.” Alicia lowered her shoulders, relaxing a little. “My son’s home.”
“He’s safe now.” I shifted my gaze to Miranda. “You all are.”
“Salvador?” Alicia’s voice was quiet.
I pushed my chair back, strolled around the table, and sat beside her and held her hands in mine. “He fought bravely.” I removed Salvador’s medal from my jacket pocket and lay it on her palm.
She closed her fingers around it. “I knew you’d understand that it meant we were safe. Sunaria promised to give it to you.”
And Sunaria had gone through with that vow, a softer side to her nature only hinted at, making it easier to trust her.
Alicia pressed her fingers to her lips. “She told you we were here?”
I nodded.
“Who is she?” Alicia asked.
I shifted in my seat. “A friend.”
A vampire who has me so seduced that even now I can’t stop thinking of her.
“Where is she now?” Alicia said.
I straightened up. “I’m more interested in how you’re doing.”
“You were with Salvador when he died?”
I nodded. “His last thoughts and words were of you.”
Tears rolled over her flushed cheeks. “Why wouldn’t Felipe let us be?”
I looked away.
“What happened to Annabelle?” Alicia asked.
I swallowed. “Felipe sent his guards.”
“Eduardo?”
I nodded.
Her lips quivered. “Dear God.”
“They murdered everyone.” I stared at her as though she might help me find the answer to why.
“I’m so sorry,” Miranda barely whispered.
Alicia’s hands covered her face. “This was my entire fault.”
“No, Alicia.” I shook my head. “Felipe did this.”
“When will it be over?” Miranda exchanged a look with Alicia.
My fists tightened. “One last detail to take care of.”
“You’re going to kill Felipe,” Miranda said.
I topped up her glass and then Alicia’s.
Alicia reached for her drink and took a sip, and then another. “How do you go on?”
I placed the bottle down. “I have you.”
Her eyes glazed over. “I want peace.”
“He’ll never come near you again.” I wanted to reach inside her and ease the hurt.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“End it.”
“Please be careful, Daumia. I couldn’t bear it if anything—”
“It’s almost over.” I leaned forward and stroked her cheek, wiping away a tear.
A creak outside the door gave away the person who’d been listening there.
Alicia sprang to her feet. “Ricardo, what are you doing up?”
A wave of anxiety overwhelmed me that he’d overheard us, and caught our entire conversation. He ran to Alicia and nestled into her bosom, and she carried him out, back to his room.
I reached for my glass and then thought better of it. Staring at the claret, I yearned for its taste.
Or something like it, something forbidden.
Miranda arose. “Ricardo’s unruly like his father.”
Unable to lower my gaze, I stared at her pale neck, the pulsing of her perfect veins that begged to be known.
“After everything you’ve been through?” She sat down on my lap, her bosom lingering close to eye level.
On the table, the ruby liquid caught the candlelight.
Miranda’s intense stare locked on me. “Go on have a sip.”
“I’ve had enough.”
“But you haven’t had any.”
“Have you been watching me drink?”
“Actually, watching you not drink. Which is so unlike you.”
“Strange that you’d find that interesting.”
“I know what you are,” she whispered.
My shirt collar was stifling. I loosened the top button.
She nuzzled into me. “You even smell different.”
The promise of those blue veins, a fine, perfect flow that glistened, profoundly beckoned me to taste from that alluring, delicate stream.
“I have no
idea what you’re talking about.” I gave a half-smile.
“You were impaled. It was a mortal strike.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Felipe left you in the courtyard to bleed out.”
I gestured. “And yet.” The room was suffocating. “It’s been a long day.”
She leaned into my ear. “I was there.”
“You’re wrong.”
She slid her finger into my mouth and rested the tip on an incisor.
I pushed her hand away. “What you saw, or what you thought you saw—”
“I wanted to stop him,” she said. “I couldn’t believe Felipe’s cruelty.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Had I done anything, he’d have killed me.”
“I’m sorry that you had to see Salvador’s murder. And my torture.”
“Your murder.”
“No one comes back from death.” I raised my hand to exaggerate my point.
I read Miranda’s mind and swore to extract every thought from now on, to reach into the very core of every human interaction, shake off this guilty feeling of trespassing. Self-preservation took precedence. Miranda may have watched my attack, but she’d not witnessed my rebirth.
“I need fresh air.” I tried to gently ease her off.
She wrapped her arms around my neck. “I couldn’t do anything to save you,” she sobbed, “I was so afraid.”
“Please don’t.”
“Scared of what Felipe would do to me.”
“You did the right thing.”
“What are you?”
“Miranda, you have nothing to base any of this on.”
She lifted a small, golden rimmed hand mirror and held it up. I gazed into the glass and saw Miranda’s reflection, but not mine. I’d never get used to that.
Miranda lowered the mirror. “She did this to you?”
“Who?”
“Sunaria.”
Frustrated, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “She saved your life.”
“And changed yours. It explains how she knew Felipe’s men were coming.” She gripped my wrist, pulling my fingers away. “She moves in a certain way. Like you do, now.”
I avoided her stare.
“Where is she?” Miranda asked.
Outside, I heard the sound of leaves and bracken swirling and then settling.
“What does it feel like?” She clutched my hand, bringing it up to her cheek.
“Everything got out of control.” I sighed.
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