Forever Black (Nightwalkers 2) (22 page)

She had been starving, so she grabbed the first person she
could find to feed on. The Countess was a silent killer, one that swept in on
her prey and left just as quickly. She had left the Count alone, and because he
had been in such a pleasured state, he was sleeping better than he ever had.

Hearing voices, she slinked backward and turned toward the
sound. A few people were gathered at the foot of the stairs. With her new
heightened senses, she knew they were human. She could smell their blood. The
scent made her swoon, her tongue making a quick pass over her top lip. But she
was full from feeding and quickly turned from them.

She went out to the garden and took a stroll down a desolate
path. It was dark—the night so thick, everything outside the protective light
of the lamps blended into the shadows. She needed this time to think, but the
more she tried, the more confused she became.

She plucked a lily from one of the flowerbeds. She twisted
it around her fingers as she studied the small spots that dotted it's center.
Releasing a deep breath, she sat on a nearby bench.

She looked down at her belly, rubbing it gently as she
thought about her child. She couldn’t understand how this could be. She and the
Count had tried for an eternity for a child, and every time she had become
pregnant, she lost her child. She swore she remembered losing this one too, but
Drake assured her she hadn't.

She lingered in the garden for an hour more then slowly trekked
back to the main house. Making her way to the large sitting room, she saw a
commotion in the hallway. Neal was arguing with a few men, and because she now
understood
Kresterian
, she heard his every word. They
were talking about Ashleigh's disappearance and were spreading out to find her.

She found this strange. Instead of passing through the thick
crowd, she transported herself into the sitting room. She scanned the area
slowly, her cat-like eyes taking notice of every person. Some women were
sitting by the fireplace gossiping, and others were sitting at the other end of
the room playing cards. The bigger alpha vampires weren't present, and neither
was the Count.

Ashleigh went over to an empty couch away from both groups
and sat down. Her eyes gazed down at the flower in her hands, her fingers
reaching up to stroke the soft petals. Sadness weighed heavy on her frail
shoulders. She had no idea where it was coming from, but she could feel it.

"There you are." The Count stood in front of her.
He grinned when he saw her look up at him. "I have been looking for you. I
was worried."

"I am fine, my love." She extended her hand to
him. "I felt I needed the air to calm me, but it has only made the
restlessness in my chest grow."

"Then maybe it is me that you need?" He sat next
to her and took her in his arms. She melted into them willingly.

"Maybe." She twisted the flower in her hands, the
stem slightly crooked.

"Tell me your wish, and I shall do everything in my
power to give it to you."

"I still have a child." A tender smile filled her
lips, the thought reddening her pale cheeks. "The wish I have desired for
so long is finally mine." Reaching a slow hand to his cheek, she gazed
loving into his eyes. "Thank you."

"It is my desire to make you happy, my queen, so no
thanks is needed." His fingers ran down her bare forearm teasingly.

"Drake?" She laid her head on his chest, snuggling
deeper into the cool fabric of his shirt. "Do you love me?"

"More than the every breath that escapes my lips."
He held her tighter and rubbed his cheek against her soft, black hair.

"I feel the great need to write. For that release only
the spilling of ink can produce."

"Tell me a story then, my love."

"I have no stories." She sighed. "My head
will produce nothing but muddled thoughts at this moment."

"Do not be so sad. I do not like to see you like
this." He kissed her hair before letting out a tired exhale. "Tell me
how to heal this and I shall."

"So deep this sin lies that I cannot find its source.
The blackness that sleeps inside me hides it from my eyes. Drake?" She
stared up at him, one of her arms reaching back and encircling his neck.
"Tell me my sin. Hiding this from me will only leave me with emptiness.
What is it I have done that makes me feel so lost? What is the source of the shroud
that weighs down my heart? I thought it was our child, but…I fear it is
something more."

"It is the sin of choosing this life over your other.
You feel sadness because of the guilt."

"I wish I could remember."

"You asked me to let you forget." His index finger
danced down her check and stopped to linger on her chin. "I did as you
asked."

"I asked you that?"

"I promised to give you whatever you wished, so I was
merely following the orders of my queen." A very soft chuckle escaped his
lips as he ran a teasing finger over the surface of her bottom lip. "Are
you angry with me?"

"No." Ashleigh glanced down at the lily briefly
then slowly into his intense, green eyes. "If I asked such a thing, then
maybe it is better this way. I would rather remember you than any other memory
in the world. I love you, Drake. Thank you for bringing me home."

"You're welcome, my love. For you, I would do
anything."

She slowly retracted her arm and turned slightly in his
arms. There was a great seduction in her deep voice, "What would you do
for me, Drake?" She traced his soft lips with a single finger, her touch
so tantalizing she could feel his breath quicken.

"Anything." He took her hand and kissed it gently.
"To have you in my arms, I would fight the greatest army. I'd cheat, I'd
lie, I'd do anything both despicable and treacherous just to keep you."

"Kill?" The word seemed to excite her, a wicked
grin lighting her features.

"Oh, yes. Kill and torture." He stroked her cheek
with the back of his hand. "To own you, I would gladly commit even the
greatest sin."

"You spoil me so." She giggled. "I love you,
my prince." She began kissing him, something that the Count returned
eagerly. After a few seconds, she slowly pulled away and gazed up at him
lovingly. "I have a story now."

"Tell me, my love." The Count licked his lips, the
taste of her ruby lipstick clinging to them.

Motioning to her lap, she gave him a sweet smile. The Count
obeyed and lay down his head. He gazed up at her as she gently ran her fingers
through his hair. In his lover's arms, he was tame.

"A young girl hides behind a stack of molding hay. The
sky is black, the clouds hanging low and thickening the air. It chokes, so
thick and full of death that she unwillingly breathes in the sin. It fills her,
coats her lungs with the blackness. The dead burn in the hearth, their flesh
melting into ash. The fire's burning fingers reach to the sky, the only light
in this darkness."

The Count chuckled as he took her hand. He studied her
fingers one at a time. "The story of our meeting. I remember reading
something similar in a book, recently."

"There is no story as great as ours. Do you not like
mine better?" She picked up the lily and teasingly ran it over the surface
of his cheek.

"
’Tis
a dark tale, my queen.
I love such things."

She bobbed her head slightly as she gazed at some of the
people across the room. They were watching her, but turned when she looked
their way. "As do I."

"If I had been hungry, I would have surely eaten
you." He grabbed her chin, turning her attention back to him. "I made
you my servant, and every night, you would ask—"

"Shall I live to see the light?" She frowned as
she ran the flower along the back of his hand, but her voice didn't reflect her
sadness. "I wish to see the sunrise, for the night is hard to bear without
a light."

"When you know what lies within the shadows, you shall
never fear the dark." His toothy grin revealed his large fangs, his eyes
bright and filled with an evil light. "Sleep, my child, and if you see the
sun rise, you will know that it is I who have allowed it to rise."

"What a cruel man you were." She studied the love
in his eyes with a great curiosity. "I could not sleep in the night and
fell asleep before the rise of the sun. You kept me in darkness."

"Is it wrong to be jealous of the sun? To never want
his eyes to kiss your skin, to cloak you with his warm blanket?" Making
small circles on the surface of her hand, he chuckled. "I am a jealous
man—I do not wish for any man to get pleasure from drinking in your beauty.
Looking in such a way upon my queen will cause their eyes to burn and their
flesh to bleed."

"That man has his eyes upon me." She motioned with
her head as her eyes gazed at a man across from her. "Does my prince wish
to make him bleed?"

"Do you wish it?" He glanced over at the man, who
had since turned his head.

"No." She gazed at a painting. "But my mind
needs a distraction." She turned back to Drake. "With your spell,
grant me peace. Fill my mind with thoughts of only happiness. This memory is
still clinging to my eyes, even if it is only a shadow. Make it vapor, my love.
Make it disappear."

"If you wish it." He sat up and planted a gentle
kiss on her lips. "Look into my eyes, my queen." He held her chin
gently as his eyes locked on hers. "With my magic, I will blacken this
memory, bury it deep."

Her stare became distant as she lost herself in the spell.
"You will forget that night you left me. The ball went as planned, and our
child did not die. Forget the sadness of your sin, for I forgive you, and you
have not died. You are here and have been here every day afterward. You have
never met your hero, and he will never come. There is only me. You will stay
with me forever, my dark, beautiful queen."

* * * *

A few months later, it was Halloween, and there was a great
ball being thrown at the castle. Ashleigh had settled into her life with the
Count once more. He controlled every aspect of her life and didn't allow her
any look into the outside world. That meant no computers or phones, and no one
was allowed to speak to her about anything outside her life at the castle. The
Count was afraid her past memories would return, and he was doing everything to
ensure that wouldn't happen.

It was tradition to hide from each other at the masked ball,
and Ashleigh was now searching the party guests for the Count. She was living
in the past. Every thought, every kiss felt as it did when she had been the
Count's wife.

The guests were dressed in fancy gowns, and their faces were
covered by all kinds of masks, from frightening monsters and cats to plain,
black eye coverings. Ashleigh was dressed in a white and silver gown that
spread out under her breasts, it's skirt so thick, it swayed when she walked.
Her hair fell in thick curls down her shoulders and back, and she wore an
ornate silver comb accentuated with white feathers. Her eyes were covered by a
white mask with feathers sprouting from its sides.

She smiled as she held the sides of her dress. She studied
each person as she passed. There was a gracefulness in her walk, each turn of
her head perfectly executed. She paused near the back of the ballroom and
licked her lips when she spotted him.

He was standing near the far end of the ballroom. His face
was partially hidden by a black mask molded to look like a devil, the nose of
it long and sweeping. A black wig covered his head and long cords of hair fell
down his back. He looked frightening. He blended in well, but his stance and
the amount of people who surrounded him gave away his identity.

She took a step toward him, but someone behind her grabbed
her hand. Ashleigh spun quickly. She regarded the masked man strangely. Her
eyes studied him from head to toe then settled on his eyes. Her brow lowered,
and her lip curled as she bore her fangs. She was going to snap at him for
touching her.

A deep, hardened frown filled out his lips as he took in her
angered expression. She looked so different. There was a paleness to her skin,
and she donned large fangs. The look of the devil lay in her sparkling eyes.
She was beautiful, even more so than he remembered, but her great beauty was
like a mask worn by a demon to fool others. His voice was soft as he spoke,
"Ashleigh."

Her eyes narrowed on him. A very confused expression graced
her features as she recognized his voice. Her anger slowly melted, and her
scowl turned into a deep frown. Her lips trembled as if she were about to cry.
Her mind was racing to put a name to the voice, but she couldn't.

All she could do was stare at him. Those comforting, ice
blue eyes made her feel an intense connection between them. A bond that
terrified her. He was the hero she had wished for long before
Nightwalkers
was produced. He had
finally come for her—finally come to save her from Drake's curse. This was the
ending she had re-written in
Nightwalkers
—Caleb.
She paused. Her hand was still in his as she cautiously glanced in the Count's
direction.