Lying on the rain-soaked battlefield, Laird Darius MacLeod looked up at the tall young man staring down at him with piercing green eyes. Dear God, was this the Angel of Death he had heard folktales about as a lad? For some reason Darius had never imagined an angel to look so—human—or so finely dressed in expensive clothing.

“Who are you?” Darius asked, the words coming out a ragged whisper, and with great effort since every inch of his body vibrated with pain.

The tall blond smiled softly, flashing straight white teeth, two of which were more prominent than the rest. Going down on his haunches, the man brushed the hair back from Darius’s face with a gentle hand. “Fear not, my friend, I mean you no harm.” His accent hinted at a French background.

Uneasiness worked its way up Darius’s spine as he stared at the man’s face, noticing strange, faint purple lines that looked like tiny veins. His skin seemed oddly pale, and his green eyes seemed to glow from within.

The frozen ground enveloped Darius, piercing into his bones, making him shiver. Even his teeth chattered, and he could do nothing to stop it. Death had its hold on him.

“Are you in great pain?” the man asked, looking down at Darius’s belly and the deep wound that would send him to an early grave.

“I can no longer feel my legs.” Darius had been injured many times throughout the years, and had the scars to prove it. Such wounds could not be avoided in turbulent times of war, but he had never before received such a punishing blow, and in such a deceitful way. The English soldier had played dead, lying still among his fallen comrades—that is until Darius had walked past, on his way to camp to celebrate their victory with their people and countrymen.

The English soldier’s blade sank into his belly, and Darius retaliated, slitting the man’s throat.

Aye, he would die this night. Overwhelming sadness filled him, and he closed his eyes for a moment, remembering his beloved’s face. Rose, with her long golden hair and beautiful green eyes. How delicate her features were; so fragile, like the rest of her. Five months pregnant with their first child, she would have to raise the babe without him. Tears burned his eyes as he silently wept for the son or daughter he would never know. For the years he would never experience with the woman he loved more than life itself. And his clansmen—he had led them into war, just as his father had before him. Tonight his men would mourn their laird’s passing.

“Darius, my name is Remont,” the man said, his thumb brushing along Darius’s jaw. “I am a friend of your brother’s.”

Darius opened his eyes, trying hard to focus. “Where is he?”

The blond smiled reassuringly. “He is coming as we speak.”

Thank God his brother lived! Demetri would see to it that Rose and their babe would have what they needed.

Remont cupped his face with both hands, his touch so gentle. “Listen to me, Darius. I can help you.”

His light eyes were so odd—so bright, so unworldly. “Remont, no man can save me. My fate is sealed.”

A deadly chill rushed along Darius’s spine and he clamped his teeth together as pain sliced through him. He was moments from death, could feel the life leaving him and the blood seeping from his body into the ground. “I do not want to die, Remont,” he said, his eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Darius, I can help you. I can save you.”

“No man has the power to spare my life, Remont. Only God can choose my fate.”

“I speak of another life, Darius. A life where you can stay as you are now: young, strong, and beautiful. A life where you will never age and you will never die.”

Darius would have laughed had he the strength. “You have the power to do this? To make me immortal?”

A hint of a smile played at Remont’s lips. “Yes, I do.”

If only it were true. He would give anything to see the birth of his child and to hold his wife in his arms again.

“Darius, you can see the birth of your child and hold your wife in your arms again.”

The man had read his thoughts. How was that possible?

“I can end your pain. A single word is all I need,” Remont urged, his voice soft. “Say yes.”

“Darius!”

Demetri appeared beyond Remont’s shoulder, his gaze moving from Darius’s to the wound. His stricken expression said more than words ever could.

Darius forced a smile, noting the blood that stained his brother’s hands and arms. “Are you hurt?”

“Nay. Who did this?”

Darius nodded to the Englishman who lay nearby, in the same place he had fallen. “Dead, just as I will soon be. Our parents are calling me home, brother.”

A nerve in Demetri’s jaw flinched. “Do not say that. You shall live.”

Darius knew his twin better than he knew himself. Demetri never gave up or accepted no for an answer. “Trust Remont, brother. He will help you.”

Demetri sat on the ground, resting Darius’s head on his lap. Darius looked up at the familiar face and noticed something odd about his brother. Something he had noted about Remont’s appearance. They both shared the same pale complexion, and, even more, his brother’s eyes were odd, more brilliant than he recalled. “Let me die in peace, brother.”

“I will not let you die,” Demetri said firmly, his pale face full of fury and fear. Darius and Demetri had never been apart in all their thirty years. Demetri was younger than his brother by a few minutes, and Darius, having become Laird at a young age upon the death of their parents a decade before, had always taken on the paternal role to his more adventurous and daring twin brother.

“Listen to me, brother,” Darius said firmly. “Take care of Rose and the babe. Promise me this.”

“Remont, change him.” Demetri’s voice held an edge Darius had never before heard.

What did he mean change him?

Tears brimmed in his brother’s fierce blue eyes. “Do not leave me, Darius. We have worked too hard and too long to see our country free from tyranny. You shall live to savor the freedom and celebrate this night with your people. You are their leader, and we need you. Your countrymen need you.”

“Tell Rose I love her.” Darius winced as pain wracked his entire body. “Tell her to make a good life for our child.”

“You will not die. I will not allow it.” Demetri looked at Remont. “Do it now!”

Remont’s brows furrowed. “I have not heard his consent.”

“You have my consent,” Demetri said through gritted teeth.

Remont nodded. “As you wish.”

Darius felt his heart slowing and his other organs followed suit. Even his vision dimmed, and Demetri and Remont blurred as a bright light filled his vision.

Demetri’s voice faded as well, and a loud humming began to intensify. Oddly enough, the fear he had been feeling dissipated as a sense of peace washed over him, followed by images of his life. Scene after scene, starting from the moment he emerged from his mother’s body, as an infant suckling at her breast, and as a toddler playing with his brother. On and on the visions flashed all the stages of his life.

He smiled as he relived the moment he first met Rose, feeling that same rush of excitement he had experienced the first time they kissed, the softness of her lips and the exultation when they had consummated their marriage. How blessed he was to have experienced such a love that they shared.

And the memory faded as smooth lips touched his neck. He tried to open his eyes, but the lids were so heavy. A sudden, sharp pain made him curse. He had no strength to push his attacker off, and seconds later the desire to do so fled as strange sensations rushed through his body. The intense cold left Darius, replaced by liquid fire, which coursed through his veins, starting at the top of his head and rushing to his feet.

“It is done,” Remont said, sounding tired.

“Thank you, my friend,” Demetri replied, his hand resting on Darius’s forehead. “I shall never forget what you have done for me this day.”

* * *

A gentle hand smoothed the hair back from Darius’s forehead. “Wake up, brother.”

Darius struggled to open his eyes. He tried to move, but even that small effort made him wince.

“Aye, you shall be sore for a few days, but soon you will be good as new. In fact, you shall be better than new.”

“Better than new?” Darius repeated, opening his eyes, squinting while trying to block the light from the candle his brother held.

“Sorry.” Demetri blew out the flame and set the candle aside.

Strangely, he could still see the dark room.

Why had candlelight hurt his eyes? And where was he now?

“You have been sleeping for some time now,” Demetri said, his voice soft. How tired his twin looked with deep, dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Apparently you have not been. You look like hell, brother.”

Demetri’s lips curved. “I see you still have a sense of humor.”

“Why should I not? I have beat death.”

He could not believe it was so. He had been so certain death would claim him. Never had he seen someone survive such a substantial wound.

Yet he lived to tell the tale. Indeed, he could scarcely wait to get home, to hold Rose in his arms and tell her how much he loved her.

A log popped and crackled in the fire. “Why is the fire so loud?”

Indeed, it seemed he could hear everything. The smallest of whispers. Dear God, was that servants talking out in the hallway?

He could not make out every word, but he could most assuredly hear others.

“Where are we?” he asked, looking around the unfamiliar room filled with beautiful, elegant items. There was nothing familiar about this place, from its fine furnishings to the large tapestries hanging on the recently painted walls. The bed he rested in had been hand carved. A true piece of art in itself.

“We are at a friend’s … not far from home.”

Darius sat up, shocked that his wound did not pain him too much. In fact, he could not even feel where the Englishman’s blade had cut him.

Lifting the covers, he could not believe his eyes. Shock rolled through him. “There is no wound.” He pressed his hand against his pelvis, in the same place the deep gash had been. “Impossible.”

He looked up at Demetri. “How can that be?”

Demetri swallowed hard. “You are no longer human, Darius. You are like me. You are like Remont.”

Darius stared at his brother for a long moment, expecting him to laugh, to tell him he was jesting, yet as the seconds ticked by, his brother’s expression turned more serious.

“Then what am I, brother, if not human?”

Before his twin could respond, Darius caught a movement in the far corner of the room. “It is me, Darius. Remont.”

The regal-looking blond-haired man he had seen on the battlefield stood from a chair in the corner, a kind smile on his handsome face. “How do you feel, Darius?” he asked in a warm voice.

“I am well, although how, I do not know,” Darius said, glancing at Demetri and then back to Remont.

Demetri put a hand on Darius’s shoulder. “You are different, brother.” He took a deep breath, then released it. “You are now a vampire.”

“A vampire?” Darius repeated, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “There is no such thing as a vampire. Vampires are creatures from folktales that are told to entertain and nothing else. Such creatures do not exist.”

Remont folded his hands together, and Darius noted his slender fingers again and the long nails. “You are a vampire, Darius. As am I.” He nodded to Demetri. “And your brother as well.”

Darius’s stomach clenched in a tight knot, reminding him of the wound that had been there when he lay dying on the fields of Bannockburn. He had died in his human life. He had received a death blow and felt the blood leave his body.

“Soon you will be able to accept your new life,” Remont said, placing a cool hand on Darius’s arm.

A myriad of emotions rushed through Darius at Remont’s touch, many that disturbed him.

Darius brushed Remont’s hand away and stood. “You say I am different, but I feel the same as I did before. How is it possible?”

“You died to your human life, Darius. You have the same body . . . and your body will never change, and you will experience things no human can.”

“Never change?”

“That is right. You will never grow old. You will never age. Not even by a day.” Remont’s gaze slid down his body and up again. “You will always be young and beautiful.”

Unable to believe what he was hearing, Darius sat down. “What if I no longer wish to have this life? What if I wish to die?”

Remont looked down for a moment, but not before Darius saw the disappointment in his green eyes. When he glanced up again, all traces of disappointment were gone. “You will learn to embrace your new life. I did. Your brother did as well.” He placed a hand on Darius’s shoulder. “Your brother and I will help you. Do not fear, soon the noises will not be so loud. Your sight will also be much improved, and again, you will learn to adjust.” His thumb brushed along Darius’s in a soothing gesture.

Darius’s first instinct was to pull away from the intimate caress, but he found he could not.

“There are things you must do in order to survive.” Remont lifted his right arm, rolled up his sleeve, and proceeded to bite himself, breaking the skin with his sharp incisors.

“What are you doing?” Darius asked, smelling Remont’s blood, the scent like that of the sweetest perfume. His mouth watered and an unimaginable hunger made his stomach tighten.

Remont sat down on the bed beside Darius and extended his arm.

Darius looked from his brother, who nodded in encouragement, to the blond vampire before him. He had become this creature they spoke about. A mythical being that lived forever. The scent of blood filled his nostrils and he nearly groaned as he reached for Remont’s arm and brought it to his lips to drink.

The instant the blood touched his tongue Darius moaned, the taste exquisite. He closed his eyes and exhilaration rushed through his veins, into every cell of his body.

* * *

Darius took his seat across the dinner table from Rose.

He had been home now for nearly a fortnight, and the excitement of his miraculous recovery had dimmed with each day that passed.

Clan members dropped by to wish him well, and extended invitations to join them for dinner or just to visit. Darius was always courteous and kind, and yet always declined, preferring to stay home, except to feed.

After all, he was no longer one of them. No longer human, but rather a beast that required blood to survive.

A vampire. A monster to be feared.

How horrified his parents would be to learn that both their sons had become creatures of the night.

Voices from the kitchen caught his attention. The servants were talking about him again. They feared him, and even now they argued amongst themselves about who would serve him dinner. Hearing the faintest of noises from anywhere in the house had nearly driven Darius insane at first, but Remont had told him how to tune those voices out. All of his senses had been heightened.

“Did you sleep well?” Rose asked, forcing a smile.

“I did, and you?”

“Very well, thank you,” she said, her gaze shifting to the servant who stoked the fire.

The joy his wife had expressed when he had come home just days after she learned he had been wounded had soon turned to confusion and suspicion. Evening visits from his brother and Remont had only added to her concerns, especially since he always left late at night to feed with them and returned shortly before dawn.

If only he had died on the battlefield before Remont had found him. Instead he had become a stranger to everyone he had known, save Demetri and their master. Now he was a monster who would never again be the same.

Two servants entered and set plates of steaming duck and vegetables before them. The smell alone made Darius nearly gag, but he forced himself to eat for appearances. Rose picked at her food, glancing up at him every once in a while. He caught and held her gaze once, but she quickly looked away, keeping her head down. She had lost weight since his return, and he feared not only for her health, but the health of their child. “Do you not like the roast duck, my dear?”

How hypocritical he felt saying those words, especially since food had lost its taste. But always he ate, forcing down bite after bite when all he really desired was blood. Aye, his need had grown to an almost insatiable yearning. He craved it and could think of little else.

“I am not hungry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“But you must eat for the babe’s sake.”

Rose set her fork down and finally held his gaze. Her throat convulsed as she swallowed hard. “Darius, our people are saying things about you that are disturbing.”

He sat back in his chair and steadied himself. He had been dreading this conversation. “What things do they say?”

“They have seen you out at night with your brother and Remont. What do you do, Darius? Where do you go?”

“To the pub some nights, but most of the time we go to Demetri’s.”

His brother had an estate not far away. His wife had always called his brother’s house a haven of depravity, since his twin had never married, nor did he seem concerned with society’s rules.

Rose cleared her throat. “Darius, do you have anything to do with the killing of Stein McGuire’s chattel?”

“You think I am responsible for killing McGuire’s chattel, Rose?”

She shrugged. “I do not know.”

He had never before lied to his wife, or to anyone else for that matter. He had always lived his life as a man of honor. But that man had died on the battlefield, along with the life he had once known. He had been reborn as a creature of the night, a creature that required blood in order to survive. He refused to take human life, but chattel and other animals kept the urge at bay.

Rose shifted in the chair. His gaze slipped to her neck and the long vein that trailed down to her right breast. His mouth watered and he licked his lips as his gaze ripped back to her face.

She looked pale. “Darius, what has happened? Why do you look so different?”

He need only look at his brother to recognize the changes in himself. They were immortal and their people knew it, especially those closest to them. Darius could smell the anxiety of every person who had entered his home, and those who worked for him feared for their lives.

As they should. He did not know how long he could keep this damnable thirst at bay.

She shook her head. “You are so pale and your eyes are strange. Like a wolf’s eyes.”

He pushed his plate away with more force than necessary. Rose jumped, and what remained of his heart broke in that instant. His wife was terrified of him.

“So what do you think I am, Rose?”

Swallowing hard, she shook her head. “I do not know.”

His heart pounded loudly in his chest. He had known this moment would come. Knew that he stood to lose everything he held dear. He could lie and hope to continue on as he had been, leaving with Remont and Demetri each night to feed. Returning to Rose, who would watch him with uncertainty that would soon grow to hate.

Or mayhap she already hated him.

Aye, he could lie or he could tell the truth. Just come out with it and hope she understood and did not turn her back on him, or God forbid—lose her forever.

“Why do you not go outside during the day anymore, Darius?”

He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “Something happened to me at Bannockburn that is difficult to explain.”

She nodded. “Hanlech said he had heard you were stabbed by an English soldier. A death blow. The wound was immense, and yet you bear no scar, husband. How can that be?”

Please God, let her understand.

If only he could return to what he had been. What he would not give for the simple pleasures of being human, of holding the woman he loved in his arms, telling her how much he loved her. How much he desired her.

But you would be dead if you were normal, he reminded himself. Any man would choose life over death, even if that life made him a monster that could never live in the light again.

She lifted her chin as she watched him. “They say Demetri has changed as well.”

His gut clenched. Strangely, Darius held no ill will toward his brother, who had given Remont permission to change him. No doubt he would have done the same had the tables been turned.

A life without Demetri would be unimaginable. Almost as unimaginable as living life without Rose.

“Husband, tell me that you are well.” Tears brimmed in her eyes, escaping down her cheeks unchecked.

“Promise me you will hear me out, Rose.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

“What you heard is true. I was struck down at Bannockburn, and the wound was deep. A fatal blow.”

Her brows furrowed. “Yet you live and bear no scar.”

“Aye, my love.” He ran a hand down his face and chose his words carefully. “As I lay dying, a man appeared at my side. At first I thought he was the Angel of Death, but he was not an angel.”

She swallowed hard. “If not an Angel, then what?”

He steadied himself for her reaction. “A vampire, Rose.”

She stood so quickly the chair fell back and hit the floor with a resounding thud. “Darius … are you a vampire?”

Darius nodded. “Aye.”

“Such creatures cannot exist,” she said, looking around wildly.

Darius wondered what she searched for. A weapon?

“I did not believe in such things either, Rose, but I have since learned the truth. Vampires do exist. They exist, and I am one. But do not fear me.” He stood slowly. “I would never hurt you.”

She glanced at the door, and he read her thoughts. Even worse, he felt her fear.

And revulsion.

His stomach knotted. God’s breath, his wife detested and feared him.

“Rose, we can still be together.”

“Of course,” she said, a touch too quickly.

The words had barely left her mouth when she rushed for the door and opened it. He jumped, a skill Demetri had recently taught him. All he had to do was think of a place and he could appear there … if it was within a reasonable distance. He landed at the door, blocking Rose’s escape.

Rose screamed as she looked up at him and then back over her shoulder at the table. She crossed herself and took a step away. “Leave me be, Darius. Do not harm me. Do not hurt us,” she said, placing a hand protectively over her rounded stomach.

He reached out to her, but she stepped back.

“I will not hurt you, Rose. I swear I will not.”

“I will not tell the others what you told me, Darius.” She backed away from him. “I swear it. I will do anything if you let me and my baby live.”

“I would not harm you or our child,” he said, finding it hard to believe she could believe him capable of such a horrible deed.

He moved toward her and she gasped, seeing he had not taken a step. She placed her hands over her eyes, as though she could not stand to look at him. “You are the devil.”

Her words cut to his soul. “Nay, I am no devil. I am your husband, Rose.”

She shook her head. “Nay, you are not my husband.”

His fingers encircled her wrist, and she tried to pull away. “The child in your womb is mine as well, Rose.”

She jerked her hand out of his grasp and ran out of the dining room.

Trembling, he wondered if he should let her go. Perhaps it was for…

Rose’s scream reverberated throughout the room, ending abruptly a second later.

His breath caught in his throat, and he raced toward the landing, stopping short at the sight of his wife’s twisted body, her beautiful green eyes staring up at him lifelessly.

“Dear God!” a servant screamed as she came upon Rose’s body. She looked up at Darius, accusation in her eyes.

“She fell,” he said, the words coming out in a coarse voice.

“Of course,” the servant replied, and yet he saw the look in the woman’s eyes that said she did not believe him.

Other servants congregated around Rose, but as Darius descended the stairs, they fell back. God’s breath, they all feared him, just as his wife had feared him.

A horrific pain ripped through his body, bringing him to his knees.

His wife was dead, along with their unborn child.

And he had killed them.