Amanda Ashley Read online

  “I hope you never do,” Alexander said quietly. Rising, he drew her to her feet. “Your leg—it’s better?”

  Kara nodded. “The doctor said I can go back to work next week.”

  “Will you meet me here again tomorrow night?”

  She nodded again, happiness welling inside her. “Will you kiss me good night?”

  “Will the sun rise in the morning?” he murmured, and then he slanted his mouth over hers, his lips claiming hers in a long, lingering kiss that left her shaken to the soles of her feet.

  When he took his mouth from hers, Kara swayed against him, certain she would have fallen but for his arms around her.

  “I hope you do not regret this, Kara.”

  “I won’t,” she whispered. “I won’t.”

  “Good night, then,” he replied, and hoped, for her sake, that she grew tired of him before it was too late.

  In the last hours before dawn, Alexander sat in front of his computer, reading what he had written earlier.

  THE DARK GIFT

  Chapter II

  I walked through the house, looking for Lilith. For the first time, I noticed that heavy draperies covered every window, and when I opened one, I saw there were shutters on the outside. I wandered through the downstairs, but she was nowhere to be found. I paused at the bottom of the winding staircase, looking up at the darkness beyond. She had forbidden me to ever go upstairs, but on this night, something drew me. Something stronger than fear of discovery, stronger than mere curiosity.

  I knew, with every step that I took, that I was embarking on a journey from which there would be no return, yet something compelled me onward.

  I think, even now, that I knew what I would find when I opened her door. Perhaps I had always known. Perhaps it wasn’t the power of her mind that had clouded mine all this time, but my own fear.

  Mouth dry, heart pounding, I opened the door to Lilith’s room, and came face to face with a scene out of one of my childhood nightmares: Lilith, dressed all in black, bending over the body of a young boy.

  Though I hadn’t made a sound, she looked up, her amber-colored eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. A collage of ghastly images imprinted themselves on my mind: the boy’s face, completely drained of color, the crimson stains on the white bedspread that matched the blood dripping from Lilith’s lips.

  She hissed at me, her eyes blazing. And then, very gently, she lowered the boy’s body to the bed and stood up. Slow step by slow step, she walked toward me. Every instinct I possessed screamed at me to run, but I could not move. I could only stand there, horrified, knowing that every nightmare I had ever had was about to come true.

  “You should not have come here.” Her voice was low and filled with rage.

  I tried to speak, to tell her I was sorry, but the words wouldn’t come. I could only stare at her face, at the blood that stained her lips.

  She put her hand on my shoulder, let it slide down my arm. “You are a beautiful man, Alesandro,” she remarked, her voice soft, seductive. “I had hoped to wait another year or two to bring you over, but now . . .” She lifted one slender shoulder. “The Dark Gift should not be bestowed on those who are too young.”

  I was trembling now, more frightened than I had ever been in my life. She knew it, and it pleased her.

  “Please.” I forced the word past dry lips. “Please.”

  “Please what?” she asked, her voice silky, her eyes blazing hotter and hotter.

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  I glanced at the body lying on her bed. “I don’t want to be like you.”

  Slowly, she looked over her shoulder, then back at me. “I see. Would you rather be like him?”

  I stared at her, repelled by both choices.

  Lilith stroked my cheek. Her hand, usually cool, was warm. Her cheeks were flushed. I flinched as her nails bit into my cheek, breaking the skin. There was blood on her hand when she drew it away, and I watched in horror as she licked my blood from her fingers.

  “Sweet,” she purred. “I knew you would be sweet.”

  “No.” I took a step backward, turned to run, only to feel her hand on my arm. I was tall and muscular. She was small and slender, yet she held me fast in her grip, and I was powerless against her.

  She smiled, exposing her fangs. I knew then what real fear was. Panic-stricken, I lashed out, my fist driving into her face. I had felled grown men with that blow. Lilith didn’t flinch. Her hands turned into claws, her fingers digging into my arm, tearing through cloth and flesh. With a groan, I dropped to my knees.

  Lilith knelt beside me, eyes burning. “I cannot bear to kill you,” she said. “But I fear I cannot let you go. You have seen too much, and you know where I rest. And so . . .”

  She drew me into her arms, holding me against her. She smelled of blood and reeked of death.

  “Please,” I said, hating the weakness in my voice, the trembling I could not control.

  “It will be soon over, mon ange,” she crooned, and she bent over me, blocking everything else from my sight, so that I saw nothing but her face, and the fires of the damned that burned in the pitiless depths of her eyes.

  I felt her teeth at my throat. Fear such as I had never known rose up within me, and then the fear was gone, overshadowed by an ecstasy that was almost sensual. My strength drained away. It grew hard to breathe, to think.

  And then I was drifting, floating, lighter than air. Darkness closed in around me, darker than anything I had ever known. I screamed as the blackness surrounded me, but no sound issued from my throat.

  I was dying. Alone. In the dark I had feared all my life. I knew it but I was too weak to care. Surely there would be light in heaven, I thought, and prayed to die quickly, that I might find my way out of the darkness and into the light.

  And then I felt it. A drop of liquid fire on my tongue. It burned through me, followed by another drop, and then another, until the drops became a river.

  I opened my eyes, and knew that I would never see the world the same way again. That I would never be the same again. . . .

  Alexander leaned back in his chair, pleased with what he had written, thinking that, like Alesandro, he would never be the same again.

  Chapter Six

  She was waiting for him, sitting in the swing as she had the night before. Alexander sensed her presence even before he vaulted over the fence, landing lightly on his feet. Through the darkness, he could see her, a slender form clad in green pants and a white, off-the-shoulder blouse.

  As he closed the distance between them, Kara stood up and began walking toward him. They met near a flowering peach tree. For a moment, their gazes met, and then she was in his arms and he was kissing her, holding her, as though he would never again let her go.

  “Kara.” He held her close, wanting to draw her goodness into him. She smelled of sunlight and flowers. Her skin was soft and warm. Closing his eyes, he let himself bask in her nearness, her warmth. Two hundred years, he thought. It had been two hundred years since he’d last held a woman he cared for; two hundred years since he’d let a woman care for him. He had forgotten how wonderful it was to hold and be held in return.

  “I missed you,” Kara said. She looked up at him, startled by the intensity of his gaze.

  “Did you?” His voice was deep and husky and unsteady.

  “Yes. I thought about you all day.” She glanced away, then met his gaze again. “Did you think of me?”

  “Every waking moment.” He slipped his arm around her waist and they walked over to the swing and sat down.

  “I had a phone call from the hospital today,” Kara said. “They want me to go to the hospital in Grenvale for some tests tomorrow.”

  “What kind of tests?”

  “I’m not sure. Blood tests of some sort.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know. When I was in the hospital, all the doctors could talk about was the remarkable recovery I had made, but now they wa
nt to do more tests. You don’t think the blood they gave me was tainted, do you?” She couldn’t bring herself to voice her worst fears, but the threat of AIDS loomed large in her mind.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t.” Alexander stared into the distance. He knew what they had found—a trace of his blood, alien blood.

  “Why don’t you have a telephone?”

  “I find them an intrusion into my life, my privacy.”

  “But how do you stay in touch with your editor?”

  “By mail. I write during the day, and prefer to be undisturbed by phones ringing. I find it breaks my concentration.” He took her hand in his. “Did you try to call me?”

  Kara nodded. “A couple of weeks ago,” she admitted. “And then today, after I heard from the hospital, I wished I could call you.”

  “Perhaps I shall have to get a phone then.”

  She smiled up at him as if she’d just won the lottery. “I’ll probably spend the night in Grenvale. Nana’s going with me. She has an old friend who lives there. They’re going to spend the day together while I’m at the hospital.” She stared down at his hand covering hers. “Maybe you could call me tomorrow night?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Here, you can use my cell phone. I’ll be staying at the Grenvale Motel.”

  Alex stared at the compact instrument for a moment, then nodded. “I shall call you there,” he said, tucking the phone into his pocket. “And I will see you here Wednesday evening.”

  “I’ll be looking forward to it.” She chewed the inside of her lower lip a moment. “Do you think maybe you could come by earlier on Wednesday night so we could spend more time together?”

  “If you wish.” He watched as her finger traced meaningless patterns on the back of his hand. His life had been like that, he thought, meaningless circles that started nowhere and went nowhere. Until now. “What will your grandmother say?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I picked up my car from the repair shop today, and I’ll be moving back to my own apartment on Thursday. I’ll give you my address when I get back.”

  Alexander nodded, although he already knew where she lived.

  “You weren’t born in this country, were you?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “It’s the way you talk. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with the way you talk. Oh, I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just the way you turn a phrase sometimes.”

  Alexander smiled at her. How perceptive she was. English was not his first language, or even his second.

  “Would you care to go out Thursday night?” he asked.

  “Sure. Where shall we go?”

  “Wherever you wish, Kara. A movie, perhaps?”

  “I’d like that. I’ve been dying to see the new Mel Gibson flick.”

  “What time shall I pick you up?”

  “Seven?”

  “Seven,” he repeated solemnly. “I should go now. It’s late.”

  “So soon?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  He clenched his fists, afraid to stay longer, afraid the yearning he felt for her would overcome his self-control. The bond they shared called to him, urging him to complete the ritual, to join his body to hers.

  Leaning forward, his lips brushed hers in a quick kiss of farewell. “I shall call you at the motel tomorrow night. And don’t worry. Everything will be all right.”

  “I wish . . .”

  “What, Kara? What do you wish?”

  “I wish you could take me.” Except for picking up her car that morning, she hadn’t driven since the accident. It was silly to be afraid, but she couldn’t help feeling apprehensive.

  “I wish I could, too. Unfortunately, I have an appointment tomorrow morning that I cannot break.”

  “I understand.” It was like falling off a horse, she mused, and since Nana didn’t drive, there was nothing to do but get back on, only in her case, it wasn’t a horse but a dark green Camry.

  “Good night, Kara.”

  “Good night.”

  He gazed into her eyes and wondered how she had managed to retain such innocence, such trust, in this day and age.

  She was a modern woman. She lived alone. She had a job, and yet he sensed a vulnerability about her that set her apart. Perhaps it was that very trait that reminded him of AnnaMara.

  Kara stared up at the doctor. His name was Dale Barrett. He was a tall, middle-aged man, with straight brown hair and pale brown eyes that did nothing to invite her trust. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m afraid we don’t, either, Miss Crawford. There’s an unusual antibody in your blood that we’ve never seen before. We want to do some extensive tests.”

  “More tests?” Kara shook her head. “No.”

  “Miss Crawford, surely you can see how important it is that we determine the origin of this antibody. At the moment, we don’t know what its effects might be. We must determine if it’s contagious. I don’t want to alarm you, but there’s every possibility that this antibody could prove fatal.”

  “Fatal! But how could that be? I feel fine.”

  “I understand your concern, Miss Crawford.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course. I’ve already made all the arrangements. Your room is waiting.”

  Kara jumped off the table. “Now, wait a minute. I haven’t agreed to this.”

  “I’m afraid I must insist.”

  “Does Dr. Peterson know about this? Why isn’t he here?”

  “He’ll be coming to see you as soon as you’re settled.” Barrett smiled reassuringly. “Dr. Peterson is a fine doctor, but he’s only a general practioner. He wanted to be sure you got the best of care, and that’s why he called me in as a consultant. My field of expertise is hematology.”

  Panic rose up in Kara as two men wearing white lab coats and masks entered the examining room. “I want to talk to my grandmother.”

  “All in good time.” Dr. Barrett pulled a syringe from his coat pocket.

  Kara took a step backward. “What’s that for?”

  “Nothing to be alarmed about.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just something to help you relax.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “I’m afraid you’re on the verge of hysteria, Miss Crawford. This will calm you.” Barrett nodded at the two white-coated men.

  “No!” She screamed the word as the two men took hold of her, flinched as she felt the prick of the needle in her arm. “No, please . . .”

  She stared up at the doctor, her vision blurring. This couldn’t be happening. Alexander! Her mind screamed his name as she tumbled into oblivion.

  Lena Corley shook her head. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

  “I’m afraid we’ve found an abnormality in your granddaughter’s blood, Mrs. Corley. We need to keep her here for further observation until we’ve determined the cause of the abnormality and determined whether it might be contagious. Or toxic.”

  “How did such a thing happen?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “Was there something wrong with the blood she received?”

  The doctor shook his head. “We screen all of our blood donors very carefully. That’s why we’re so confused. We have the names of the people whose blood was used. They’ve all been rechecked.”

  Lena Corley stared at the paper in front of her. They wanted her to admit Kara to the hospital for some extensive tests. The doctor, whose name was Barrett, had informed her that Kara had fainted during an examination and that she was still unconscious. They feared it had something to do with the abnormal red cells in her blood. It was urgent, the doctor said, that they find the cause of her problem as soon as possible. Until then, it was imperative that she be kept in isolation.

  “Think of your other granddaughter, Mrs. Corley. You don’t want to take a risk of infecting her, now do you?”

  “No, no, of course not, but . . .”

  “I understand, but you mustn’t worry,”
Barrett said reassuringly. “I promise you that we’ll do everything we can for Kara.” He handed her a pen. “Just sign your name there, on the first page, and again on page four. I’ll take care of everything else.”

  Lena shook her head as she squinted at the fine print. “So many big words that I don’t understand.”

  “Of course. All that legal mumbo jumbo. All it says is that we have your permission to keep Kara overnight, and to prescribe treatment for her.”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “Mrs. Corley, time is of the essence in cases like this. Do you really want to put Kara’s life at risk by waiting?”

  With a sigh of resignation, Lena signed the papers.

  Alex called the Grenvale Motel at six o’clock that evening, but the clerk informed him that Kara had not yet checked in. He knew a moment of concern, and then he shrugged it aside. She was a grown woman. Perhaps she had gone out to dinner or shopping. Grenvale was a big city, much larger than Moulton Bay, and it was still early. He would write a chapter, then call again.

  THE DARK GIFT

  Chapter III

  I stared into Lilith’s face. “What have you done to me?”

  “I have made you immortal.”

  I stared up at her, knowing what she was, yet refusing to acknowledge it; knowing, in the very depths of my being, that my soul was damned.

  “What are you?”

  Amusement flared in her eyes. “What do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You know.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not possible.”

  “We are known by many names. Vrykalakes, blutsauger, upiry. Vampyr, Vampyre.” She smiled. “Vampire, Alesandro, that is what I am. That is what you are.”

  “No . . .” I stared at her, the embodiment of every nightmare I had ever known, every fear that had tormented me. Vampire. The undead.

  “Go outside,” she said curtly. “Empty yourself of bodily fluids. Then come back to me.”

  I did as I was told. Numb to everything around me, I did as I was told. I knew it was winter, that the air was cold, but I felt nothing at all.

  She was sitting on the edge of the bed when I returned. “When you wake tomorrow, the transformation will be complete.” Rising, she glanced at the window. “It is almost dawn.”