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Midnight Embrace



Analisa woke with a smile on her face. Alesandro loved her, she thought dreamily. He loved her! And he had made love to her. Had ever a woman been loved so gently, so completely? Drawing the covers up to her chin, she giggled like a silly child. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Alesandro! His scent was all around her. She felt her cheeks grow hot as she recalled how brazenly she had surrendered to him, how eager she had been for his touch. She should be ashamed, she thought, and wondered why she wasn't. She had been taught that intimacy before marriage was a sin, but it hadn't felt like a sin. It had felt right somehow, as if she had found the other half of her soul. Did vampires have a soul? Or were they forever damned? She wouldn't, couldn't believe that.



For all that he was cursed to dwell in darkness, Alesandro wasn't evil. Not like Rodrigo, who went about killing for pleasure.



She thrust the thought of the other vampire from her mind, refusing to let thoughts of that depraved monster spoil the day, or her memories of the night before.



Sitting up, she placed her hand on the pillow beside hers, wishing Alesandro were there, wishing she could kiss him good morning, but of course he couldn't be here with her now. She thought of him sleeping in thebowels of the strange round cottage in the woods.



Rising, she went to the window and drew back the curtains. She was wondering what time it was when she heard the downstairs clock chime the hour. She smiled because it was a quarter after three. Only a few hours until she would see him again.



Feeling suddenly famished, she pulled on her robe, stepped into her slippers, and left the room, wondering why Sally hadn't come in to light the fire in the hearth.



She felt it as soon as she descended the stairs, a tension in the air, a strange hush, as if the house were holding its breath.



She looked into the parlor, the library, the dining room, the pantry, even went upstairs to check Mrs. Thornfield's room, but there was no one about. Gathering her courage, she even peeked into the kitchen, her concern growing when she saw that there was nothing cooking on the stove.



Growing more alarmed, she went out the back door into the yard. There was an unnatural silence here, too. She hesitated a moment, and then, without knowing why, she started down the path toward the barn.



Her footsteps slowed as she neared the entrance to the barn. A sudden chill engulfed her, coupled with a deep sense of foreboding. She stared at the barn. One of the big double doors stood open. She paused and looked, feeling as though she were walking through a thick fog, she stepped into the building. As she did so, she heard Mrs. Thornfield call her name, a note of panic in her voice.



The warning came too late.



Farleigh whirled around as Analisa entered the barn, and in doing so, he let her see the very thing the housekeeper had tried to spare her.



Sally lay on her back on the floor, her face drained of color, her eyes empty of life. Her throat had been savaged; dark crimson streaks stained her skin, her bodice.



Robert lay beside her, a great gaping hole where his heart had been.



Analisa turned and stumbled out of the barn. Retching violently, she dropped to her hands and knees. She was dimly aware of Farleigh kneeling beside her. As from a great distance, she heard Mrs. Thornfield calling her name.



And then she heard nothing at all.



She didn't want to wake up, didn't want to face the memory of the horror she had seen. She told herself it hadn't been real. Couldn't be real.



She heard Mrs. Thornfield's voice, soft, worried; heard Farleigh's hushed reply, the sound of hurried footsteps as he left the room.



"Analisa? Child?" Mrs. Thornfield patted her hand, laid a cool cloth on her brow. "Analisa, can you hear me!"



Tears slid down Analisa's cheeks. "Tell me it isn't real."



"I wish I could."



Analisa opened her eyes to find herself on her own bed. Mrs. Thornfield removed her slippers, then covered her with a quilt. "Who?" she asked. "Who would do such a terrible thing?"



"Rodrigo."



"He was here?"



The housekeeper nodded. "Yes."



"He was in the house?"



"No. Farleigh found Mary and Robert deep in the woods."



Analisa choked back a sob. The lovers had met in secret far from the house, away from disapproval and prying eyes. "Have you notified the constable?"



"No. Here, sit up and drink this," the housekeeper said, taking a cup of tea from Cook's hand.



Analisa took a swallow, and nearly choked. "What's in this?"



"Only a bit of brandy," Mrs. Thornfield said. "Drink it. It will make you feel better."



Analisa did as she was told, though she doubted that anything would make her feel better. "Poor Sally."



"Don't think of it now." Mrs. Thornfield took the cup from her hand. "Rest now."



"Will you stay with me?"



"Yes, child."



Lulled by the brandy, the first she had ever tasted, she was quickly asleep.



She woke screaming, images of blood and eyes glowing with a fiendish light lingering inher mind.



"It's all right, child. You're safe."



"I had the most terrible dream." She looked up into Mrs. Thornfield's pale face. "But it wasn't a dream, was it?"



"No." There were tears in the housekeeper's voice. "Try not to think about it now."



Not think about it? Analisa doubted she would ever get her last glimpse of Sally out of her mind. The look of stark horror on the girl's face, the awful wounds in her throat. The blood...



A vampire had done that.



She looked at the window. It was dark outside. Alesandro would be up by now. Did he know what had happened? She closed her eyes. Of course he would know. She wished he were there to comfort her, and yet...



Vampire.



The word slithered through her mind, malevolent, insidious, conjuring images of darkness andblood. And death.



But Alesandro was not like that! Not her Alesandro. He had ever been kind to her. He had sheltered her in his house, clothed her in fine silks, shown her a world she never dreamed existed...



And taken her blood on more than one occasion.



A chill ran down her spine. He had warned her several times that she was not safe in his house.



Mrs. Thornfield left the room, returning a short time later with a cup of warm broth, but Analisa had no appetite.



"Will you be all right alone for a time, child?" the housekeeper asked. "I must go and see to... to the bodies. We will bury them later tonight."



Analisa nodded, grateful that she could stay in her room, grateful that she would not have to look again upon the horror Rodrigo had wrought. She stared at the lamp burning beside the bed, at the half-dozen candles Mrs. Thornfield had thoughtfully set around the room to keep the darkness, and her fears, at bay.



What would happen now? And where was Alesandro?



He lingered in the shadows of her room, aware of the fear that engulfed her, conscious of her every thought. He had seen what was left of Sally and young Robert Mason. Seen the bodies, smelled the fear that clung to them, even in death. Smelled the dried blood on their skin, and cursed the hunger the sight of it had aroused in him. How could he fault Rodrigo for what he had done when he himself was plagued with the same evil? And yet Rodrigo had dared to come here and kill two people in his employ and under his protection. They had not been killed to satisfy the vampire's hunger. The deaths had been a challenge, boldly given, and perhaps more than that. Perhaps a warning that the vampire intended for Analisa to be his next victim. Rodrigo had sworn to be avenged for his loss. What better vengeance than to destroy the woman his enemy held dear?



Alesandro's gaze moved over Analisa. He had been a fool to keep her in his company. And a bigger fool to fall in love with her. And careless to bring her here. He should have known Rodrigo would find them. Should have known the other vampire would never stop looking for him.



Analisa slept restlessly, tossing and turning, her hands clutching at the blankets. It was an easy thing, to slip into her mind, into her dreams. She was running through a dark maze, running from hell-red eyes and gleaming fangs dripping blood. Running from a vampire. But was it Rodrigo she ran from in stark terror? Or himself?



If he went to her now, would she seek comfort in his arms, or cry out in horror?



He had never considered himself a coward. A vampire who was a coward would not have survived four hundred years. But he was afraid, afraid of what he would see in her eyes if he went to her now.



She cried out in her sleep, bolted upright, her gaze darting around the room. "Alesandro?" His name was a whisper on her lips as she clutched the blanket to her breast. "Alesandro, are you there?"



"I am here," he replied quietly, but stayed hidden from her sight.



She turned toward the sound of his voice. "Where are you? Show yourself."



Taking on form and substance, he stepped out of the shadows. " 'Lisa."



She stared up at him, apprehension and longing reflected in the depths of her eyes.



"You fear me now?"



She heard the sorrow in his voice and wished she could deny it.



"Shall I send you away, 'Lisa? Do you wish to leave here and find some place where you will be safe from me?"



"Is there such a place, my lord?"



"No." There was no place she could go where he could not find her. She could leave the Manor, leave the country, sail away to the other side of the world, but he would always know where she was.



"Did you see... ?" she began.



"Yes."



A tear glistened in her eye. "Poor Sally. She was so in love. All she wanted was to be with Robert."



"They are together now," he said quietly.



"Yes. But to die so horribly. So needlessly..."



He winced at the pain in her voice, in her eyes. Even though he wasn't the one who had taken their lives, their blood stained his soul. They had been his people. He should have protected them, should have detected Rodrigo's presence - and he would have, he knew, if he had not been caught up in the wonder of making love to Analisa. But he did not tell her that, did not want her burdened by the guilt that weighed him down.



"Tell me what you want," he said. "If you wish to leave, I will send you away."



"You said there was no place where I could be safe."



"There is no place where you will be safe from me, Analisa. I will always be able to find you wherever you go. But I can send you away. Keep you safe from Rodrigo. If that is your wish, you have only to tell me. I will buy you a house, give you the money to furnish it as you see fit, provide you with a comfortable income for the rest of your life, whether you marry or not."



"You would do that for me?"



"Yes, if you wish it."



"And Rodrigo would never find me?"



He closed his eyes, wondering what madness had possessed him to offer her such a choice. "No, he will not find you."



"And would you come after me?"



He opened his eyes to find her watching him intently. "No."



"You would let me go, just like that?"



Could he let her go? Could he go back to the dark existence he had known before she came into his life? Could he keep her here against her will?



"Alesandro?"



"I will let you go, if you wish it."



"And if I wish to stay?"



For the first time in four hundred years, a mortal had truly surprised him. He looked at her, not daring to believe what he had heard.



"Alesandro?"



"You do not mean it. You cannot mean it." He shook his head. "I can smell your fear, read it in your eyes."



"Love is stronger than fear," she murmured, and held out her hand.



He closed the distance between them. Sweeping her into his arms, he crushed her close. " 'Lisa!" Weak with relief, he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, let it fill him, surround him. He had not lost her.



"Alesandro," she gasped. "I can't breathe."



"Forgive me." He loosened his hold on her, brushed his lips across the top of her head.



She looked up at him, love and confusion replacing the fear in her eyes. "Is something wrong?"



" 'Lisa." He sat down on the edge of her bed and drew her into his lap. "I have been alone for four centuries. When I found you..." He shook his head, wondering how to make her understand.



"Go on."



"It was like finding a light in the darkness. I have taken blood from hundreds of women, but none is as... as sweet, as satisfying, as yours. Having you in my home, seeing you each evening, I began to have hope. And when I knew you loved me..." His arms tightened around her again. "With you in my life, the darkness of my existence no longer seemed such a curse. I almost did not come to you tonight. I was afraid of what I would see in your eyes, afraid I would stand condemned with Rodrigo."



"Oh, Alesandro!" She hugged him to her. "I admit, I was afraid. It's the first time I've ever seen what a... a vampire can do. It was so horrible! Poor Sally." Tears filled her eyes. "It's all my fault. All my fault. I knew she was going to meet Robert. I should have told her not to go, but I wasn't sure if it was my place." She sniffed back her tears. "I was going to talk to you about it..."



"The fault is mine, love, not yours. I should have given them permission to marry. Had I done so, they would not have been forced to arrange clandestine meetings in the woods."



"Why didn't you let them marry?"



He shook his head. "I fear I am a selfish creature, 'Lisa, concerned only with my own needs, my own survival. Mortal concerns have not been mine, until you came here. You must not go outside after dark, 'Lisa. He can prowl the grounds of the Manor at will, but he cannot enter the house uninvited. I will instruct Mrs. Thornfield that no one is to answer the door after dark."



"You didn't take such precautions at Blackbriar."



"It was careless of me, but I did not think he would be so bold as to trespass on my property." He paused,listening. "Mrs. Thornfield is coming."



A moment later, there was a knock on the door. "My lord?"



"Yes."



"We're ready to inter the bodies."



"Very well. We will be down shortly."



"Yes, my lord. Does Miss Analisa need help dressing?"



"I will see to it."



There was a pause before the housekeeper replied, "Yes, my lord, as you wish."



"Alesandro? Mrs. Thornfield said the constable hasn't been notified. Shouldn't we call him?"



"No. Save for Mrs. Thornfield, no one in my employ has any family, or anyone to ask after them."



She nodded, and he saw realization in her eyes. She had no family, either. No one to ask questions if she should disappear. The doubt in her eyes was painful to see, yet he could not fault her for her fear. How many times had he warned her that she was not safe in his house? It amazed him that she was strong enough, brave enough, that she loved him enough, to stay when she had seen first hand what a vampire could do.



"You need not be present at the burial, if you'd rather not," he said.



"I want to go," she said. "I need to go."



Putting her on her feet, he gained his own. He went to the wardrobe and withdrew a modest gown of indigo blue and then proceeded to dress her as ably as any lady's maid. When she was properly attired, he brushed her hair, stopping now and then to run his hand over the long, silky length, or to bestow a kiss on the crown of her head.



He knelt at her feet and put on her stockings and her shoes, his hands caressing her calves. His touch sent shivers of desire racing through her. It seemed wrong to feel desire when Sally lay awaiting burial.



"Will they become vampires now?" she asked.



"No."



She looked up at him. "Did you... ?" She couldn't say the words, couldn't ask if he had taken the precautions used by country folk to insure that those bitten by vampires did not rise again. She shuddered, remembering some of the images she had seen in one of Alesandro's books.



As always, he knew her thoughts. "There was no need," he assured her.



Rising, he took her hand and drew her to her feet. "Are you ready, 'Lisa?"



Her face paled a little, but she nodded. "Yes."



There was a small family cemetery a short distance behind the barn. The graveyard was perfectly square, enclosed by a wrought-iron fence. Unlike most graveyards, there were no crosses in evidence here, only three headstones. Analisa read the names.Trevor Gallatin, Beloved Husband and Father. Dorothy Gallatin. Beloved Wife and Mother. Elizabeth Gallatin. Elizabeth's inscription read, " She lived and died alone." Elizabeth's was the most recent date of death: March 27, 1746.



A pair of wooden caskets rested beside two freshly dug graves. She wondered who had built the coffins.



Analisa stood beside Alesandro, her hand in his, as Dewhurst and Farleigh lowered the caskets into the earth. Mrs. Thornfield and Cook stood across from her. The housekeeper's face was solemn, her eyes red-rimmed. Cook's face was pale. There was fear in the eyes of the servants. She noticed a small silver cross on a chain at Cook's throat.



When the bodies had been lowered into the earth, Dewhurst looked at Alesandro. Bowing his head, Dewhurst began to recite the Lord's Prayer.



Analisa closed her eyes, seeking comfort in the words of the prayer. If only she had spoken to Alesandro, begged him to let Sally and Robert marry.



Do not blame yourself, 'Lisa.



Alesandro's voice whispered in her mind. Looking up, she met his gaze.



She wondered, in the dim recesses of her mind, what effect, if any, the prayer had on him. Did he pray? He had told her he had no soul, but she refused to believe that.



When the prayer was over, Mrs. Thornfield and Cook dropped a handful of earth into each of the graves. Farleigh and Dewhurst did the same. Analisa looked at Alesandro, and then she scooped up a handful of earth. It was cold in her hand.



She knelt near Sally's graveside and then, murmuring, "I'm sorry, please forgive me," she dropped the dirt onto the casket. It made a soft, whispery sound she knew she would never forget.



Alesandro moved to her side and helped her to her feet "Come, 'Lisa, let us go back to the house."



She nodded, eager to be away from the cemetery. It could have been her they were burying, she thought. She often walked the gardens at night. She felt guilty for being alive, guilty for not talking to Alesandro before it was too late. He took her hand in his.



Walking away from the graves, she could hear Dewhurst and Farleigh shoveling dirt over the coffins.



She blinked backher tears, wishing she could dig a hole deep enough to bury her guilt.
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