"About William?" He chuckled.
"You know not about William."
"I know, Rose," he said, wrapping his arms around me. "But he will make a good husband."
"He's vile," I replied in disgust.
"Rosaline Winthrop!" Mother scowled as she walked into the room.
"Stella, leave the girl alone," my father said as he squeezed me one last time then walked over to my mother and kissed her forehead.
"Don't encourage her free spirit. I am already worried she is going to be one of those runaway brides. Could you imagine how horrifying that would be?" She chuckled lightly.
"Pfft! How horrified would you be, mom?" I asked crassly, looking out of the window toward the garden.
"Excuse me? Mom? Don't be vapid. You can leave that attitude and those pedestrian words wherever you found them, because they are not allowed in my house," she replied in a taut voice.
I sank into my chair. "Yes, Mother."
"Gabriel, have you heard anything from the McAllisters?" Mother asked.
"Heard anything like what?" he said as he ran his fingers through his shoulder length strawberry blond hair, matched by the slight goatee he had been trying to grow the last few days.
"Anything means anything," she replied, shaking her head.
"Stop worrying about the wedding, Stella. William's mother is even more neurotic than you, and I'm positive with both of you at the helm, nothing will go awry. Unless, of course, one of you kills the other first." He chuckled.
"Oh, Daddy," I laughed, shaking my head at him.
My mother, however, did not find his jokes amusing and shot him a death stare, a look she gave only on the rare occasion she actually let her irritation show. I sank into my chair even further, hoping to disappear from the tension-filled room.
"I'm just kidding, my dear," he said, walking toward her with his arms stretched out in an effort to make up.
My father, always quick to make things right, was the only person I felt completely comfortable with. Not pretentious or hard of heart, he took life with a grain of salt. Maybe it was because he dealt with death so often that he was numb to it. Or maybe, just maybe, since he dealt with death so often, he knew each day should be cherished, even though he was promised an eternity of immortality.
The one thing I did glean from watching my parents interact was the glaring and obvious drawback to arranged marriages…specifically the lack of true love. The kind of love written on the crumbling pages in the antique books found in my parents' library. The kind of love that inspired the eloquent prose of Shakespeare, Sydney, and Lodge.
That was the kind of love I longed for, the kind of love I knew I would never have with William.
In an effort to escape the inevitable fight about to take place before me, I announced, "I'm going for a run before it gets too dark."
"Goodnight, darling," my mother said, blowing me a kiss.
"Goodnight, Mother," I replied.
"Be careful out there, and don’t go into the woods," my father warned.
"You say that every time," I replied.
"Because you never listen, my little Rose."
"Okay, I won't go into the woods," I reassured him with a smile before I quickly shuffled up the stairs.
Strolling down the long hallway, decorated with golden crown molding and the finest brass sconces brought over from Ireland when my mother's family immigrated to help populate the western lands with vampires, I replayed the chance meeting with the handsome stranger in my head.
Why have I never seen him in town before? Maybe he is new to Covington?
Surely, I couldn’t have known everyone who lived here. But I was pretty sure I had taken stock of anyone who had crossed my path. After all, if they were human, the scent of their blood alone was enough to be logged onto some sort of list in my brain, and I knew every vampire in our coven. So like I said…I should know everyone who lived here.
Upon entering my room, I darted straight to the closet to search through the endless racks of clothes that lined every wall for something to wear on my run. I stumbled upon an old box of papers with drawings from my childhood. Looking through the pile, one tattered page caught my attention enough to stop and pull it out. It was a stick figure drawing of me on my wedding day. The dress I drew around myself was black, and my red crayon lips turned down in a frown. The sky was black as well, and the sun I had drawn was completed with a sad face.
Is this what my six-year-old self thought of marriage…sadness shrouded in black?
I must admit time had not faded those feelings for me. Marriage…more like a business deal, if you asked me. And no one did. I was just a commodity to be traded off to the highest bidder, like oranges or coffee in the stock market.
A tear rolled down my cheek as I thought of the eternity of loneliness that was in store for me. I wished for the day so many years ago when marriage was a far-off concept, but here I stood at the precipice of the abyss of my life, and there was nothing and no one that could save me from it.
I laid the paper on my glass night stand and readied myself for the run. Before I realized it, I was dressed and halfway down the street. Marriage to William was going to be hard enough without the added distraction of a handsome stranger. Hopefully, this jog would help me shake his memory.
One thing about vampires…we moved as fast as lightning. So a light jog could easily turn into a cross-city trip in less than a few minutes. As darkness fell, I found myself standing at the base of a tree that edged the thick Oconee forest. The sounds of crickets playing their evening renditions called to me, followed by my father's voice warning me not to go in.
What is he afraid of?
I could take care of myself. He was the one who taught me to hunt and trap and camp out in these very woods. Throwing caution to the wind, I took my first step into the darkness, then a second and third, as twigs cracked underfoot.
This isn't so bad.
My short, shallow steps, evolved into long, purposeful strides as I bobbed and weaved, hurdling over fallen trees, listening as the owls swooped in for their nightly kills. I was free. Free of the restraints of civilized society. Free of my mother's stifling hold. Free of William and the horrible future I faced with him as a McAllister.
A smile fell over my face as I dug deep within the pit of my stomach and belted out a howl so loud I was sure my mother heard it.
Then it happened again. The overwhelming anxiety I felt earlier that afternoon stopped me in my tracks. There I was, alone in the forest without my father to protect me, paralyzed with fear. I used the moon, my only source of light, to pan the endless darkness in search of my way out.
Crack!
A twig snapped behind me.
I whipped around. "Who's there?" I asked.
I felt the anxiety intensify as the leaves rustled against the wind.
"Show yourself now or you'll be sorry," I said as my body trembled.
"Will I?" A voice wafted in from the darkness.
"I'm not afraid of you," I yelled out.
Why should I be scared? I was a vampire. The top of the food chain. I was impervious to death and fear. But if all this were true, then why was I so scared?
"I can see you shaking from here," the deep timbered voice whispered.
"I'm not shaking, and it's rude to scare a lady. Come out from your hiding place," I demanded.
"I thought you weren’t scared?" asked the nearing voice.
Gritting my teeth to hide the quiver in my lip I took my stance, "I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I must."
A cold chill zipped past me, followed by a warmth that seemed to emanate from behind. "Will you?"
I whipped around to see a man standing less than one inch from my face. But not just any man…the stranger. Frightened, I shoved him with all the strength I had, propelling him into a tree, which cracked at the point his body made contact. It was enough to kill any human being. Unfortunately for me, a human being he was not. Chuckling, he brushed off
the splinters of wood that laced his white v-neck tee.
"Don’t do that again, Rosaline," he warned confidently.
My heart dropped into my stomach. "How do you know my name?"
"Don’t you know mine?" he asked as he paced around me.
"No…no, I —" I stuttered.
"You do know my name," he interjected.
A voice drifted through my head whispering Gideon.
"Say it," he cajoled.
"Say what?" I asked, confused by what was going on.
"Say my name, Rosaline."
Gideon. The voice urged.
"Gideon!" I blurted out. "It's Gideon."
I covered my mouth, wondering where that name had come from.
The stranger smiled. "It's nice to finally meet you, Rosaline. I've waited for what's felt like an eternity to meet you." His muscles flexed in the moonlight as he circled effortlessly around me.
"An eternity? What do you mean?" I asked, bewildered.
In a flash I was up against a tree with his body pressed into me. Our eyes locked as his heart beat next to mine. His blood smelled like the calming fragrance of a flower. Not like human blood, which made my mouth water uncontrollably, taking all my strength to keep me from plunging my fangs into their soft, velvety flesh and drinking my portion.
He silently cupped his hand to my cheek and I could do nothing but submit to his dominance. The anxiety I felt earlier melted away like the tide washing away the sand.
"Gideon," I whispered.
"That's right, Rosaline."
My eyes closed as I took in the electricity that billowed around us. It was soft and cradled me like a newborn baby.
Oh, I wish he would lean in and press his lips to mine.
My heart wanted nothing more than that first sweet decadence between a man and a woman. Lost in my sea of thoughts, I lifted my hand toward his face where I felt nothing but night air in between my fingers. Another crack of a twig persuaded me to open my eyes to nothing but the forest encompassing me on all sides.
Gideon. Whoever he was…was gone. I pushed myself off the tree and pressed my fingertips to my lips.
Emptiness filled me. What an ironic thing to think.
How can nothingness fill something?
Yet here I stood, filled with emptiness. I felt cheated, and I didn’t want to go home. Not to the humdrum existence I was living only minutes before meeting him.
Who was he, and why he did he make me feel the way I did? Did I even know how I felt? And how did I know his name?
So many questions left unanswered in the still of the night. Alone, I could not answer them.
DRESS LIKE A LADY
The sun crept over my white down comforter and rested on my face. I slid my arm over my eyes to shield myself from the uncomfortable rays working so tirelessly to wake me from my slumber.
"Not yet," I muttered to myself, wanting to stay asleep for a little while longer to delight myself with thoughts of Gideon.
In my dream we were standing on a secluded beach next to a roaring fire, the silver moon hung high in the night sky amidst a sea of stars. The flickering light of the flames danced in his eyes as his five o'clock shadow bristled against my chin when he softly pressed his lips to mine. Traveling down the length of my spine, his hand found rest on the small of my back, as I embraced his neck tightly.
Startled by a knock on my door, I pulled the blanket up to my chin. "Yes?"
"It's me, Rosy." William's voice filtered through the door.
"I told you to stop calling me Rosy. My name is Rosaline," I roared, disgusted that he couldn’t even respect my wishes in the slightest. Something I was sure he picked up from his mother.
"I'll oblige your request for now, but in a month's time it won't matter much," he taunted.
"What do you want, William?" I asked, throwing the covers over my face.
"Rosaline Winthrop. Get out here and show your fiancé some respect," my mother called out from behind the door.
"Mother, why are you letting that man up here? I am not married to him yet." I punched my pillow in frustration.
She opened the door, allowing William entrance to my bedroom. "I refuse to yell through a door in my own house, Rosaline." Her voice was tighter than usual.
"Get up, Rosaline. I have the day planned for us," William said, yanking the covers completely off the bed.
He was wearing a pair of dark brown dress slacks that matched his eyes and a white buttoned down shirt. His brown hair was finely cut and his face clean shaven. Although I didn’t care for his entitled attitude or him as a person, I couldn’t deny he had grown into quite the handsome man.
"Where are you trying to take me on this fine, fine day?" I asked sarcastically as I kicked my legs over the side of the bed and made my way to the closet.
"Dress like a lady today, please," he ordered.
Rifling through the endless rows of chiffon and lace I yelled, "You can't tell me what to wear, William."
"Yet. I can't tell you what to wear, yet. Hey, what's this?"
"What?" I asked, poking my head out of the closet.
He held up the drawing I found the night before, "This."
"A drawing."
"Obviously. Why does it look like you're going to a funeral?"
I walked out of the closet dressed in a pair of fitted jeans and a black tank top.
"It does look like a funeral, doesn't it?" I asked rhetorically. "It's of our wedding." I ground in the statement with an extra twinge of snideness to make him aware of my resistance to our impending marriage.
As the words spilled from my lips, his demeanor changed, and the callousness that was so familiar to me fell away like a mask, revealing a softness I had never seen. Tossing the paper to the floor, he walked over to me, as I watched it glide smoothly under my bed.
Shifting my gaze back to him I pleaded softly, "I have a month, William. Let me have my month."
He laid his palms on my shoulders and smiled. "Listen, Rosaline, I know I am not the easiest man to get along with, and I have some traits…"
"Some?" I interrupted.
"Okay, a lot of traits that could use refining. But that's what I need you for." He stroked my hair, lodging a tendril behind my ear. "You are my saving grace, Rosaline Winthrop, my very reason for existence, and I promise you right now…right now, that the old William is dead and buried."
His words were quite profound, in all the years I had known him, I had never heard such eloquence spill from his lips.
Had the dark drawing of the wedding switched on a light in his heart?
"William." I blushed.
"Rosaline, I've loved you since we were children, since the day you pushed me down on the grass right outside this window. I have loved you in the stillness of the day, pondering your beauty, and I would be proud to have you to sit next to, not beneath me, for all eternity."
"I don’t even know how to respond, William. I have never heard you speak this way," I replied, bewildered by the sudden transformation.
He chuckled. "I literally just realized that if we're to be happy, I need to stop trying to tame the torrid hurricane within you. Because if I am truly honest with myself, it's the reason I fell in love with you in the first place."
I looked away as he caressed the length of my arms, awaiting my reply, and although his words were charming, I had none to offer in return. Between the man he was before this morning and the stranger I encountered last night, my mind was spinning a thousand miles a minute.
Shrugging him off, and in an effort to change the subject, I asked, "So, where are we off to?"
"Our future," he replied with a smile.
"What does that even mean?"
"You'll see," he said, sliding his hand down my arm until his hand met mine.
Leading me outside, he rushed ahead of me and pulled the passenger door to his red sports car open. "My lady."
I chuckled, "William, stop being weird."
"Get used to it," he said as he sh
ut my door.
The engine revved as we pulled out of my driveway and headed toward the main highway to Atlanta.
"Where are we going, William?"
"Almost there. Just relax," he said as he veered off the freeway and onto an old country road.
The road twisted and turned through thickets and parts of forest. As the road cleared, I could make out the outline of a beautiful stone mansion set beside a lake large enough to hold a boat or two. The garden was filled with lilies like those outside my bedroom window.
"This is beautiful, William. Who lives here?"
"We will." He turned to me with a smile.
"What do you mean?"
"I had this built for you. For us," he stated proudly.
"Really?"
"Yes, really," he said, parking in front of the massive wooden door with a brass handle that stretched like wings from one end to the other.
He rushed to my side of the car and opened the door for me. "Who are you?" I asked.
"Like I said…a new man."
"I can see."
Trailing behind him up the stone steps, he pulled the door open and allowed me entrance into the opulence of my future home.
"White," was the first word that came to mind as I stepped into the light and airy living room.
White. From the sleek art deco couches to the shag rug that lay in between them.
"It looks so clean I don’t even want to touch anything," I said excitedly.
"But it's yours." He placed my hand on his chest. "It's all yours.
I paused from surveying the layout and decorations, and shifted my gaze toward William.
"William…I." I stuttered, as I pulled my hand away slowly and took a step back.
"It's okay, I know I have years to make up for." He smiled. "Do you want to see the rest of the house?"
I nodded nervously, rubbing my shoulder. The house was perfect, and William was finally acting like the man I had always longed for, but something wasn’t right. There was a dull ache that nagged at my stomach, and I knew William's efforts, no matter how sincere, would never amount to the passion I felt last night in those few moments with Gideon. A man with whom I had only shared a handful of words.
Maybe if William had changed his ways even a week earlier I would feel differently. Maybe not. I'd never know, since this was my reality, and in this reality I had met someone who showed me a realm of feelings I never knew could exist between a man and woman.
Rosaline Page 2