5

“Come on,” Seraphine said, opening the door. “Come inside and sit down near the fire.”

Her invitation was enough to let him pass the threshold and he stumbled through the kitchen with her help, into the wide living room where a fire blazed and crackled in the hearth. She eased him onto an overstuffed sofa crowded with colorful pillows and Aleron laid his head on the back of the couch. The fatigue seeping into every square inch of his body dragged at him.

He battled unconsciousness, his thoughts becoming fuzzy, his breathing slowing. The scent of cinnamon hung in the air and mingled with the pine garland strung across the mantel. Being in this house again brought back memories so vivid, so alive, the empty room seemed to throb with them. 

“Are you hungry?”

He turned his head to look at her. His gaze locked on the graceful column of her throat and he would have sworn he could actually see her pulse pounding there. Her blood would be warm and rich and sweet. He could almost taste it, flowing down his throat, slaking his thirst, easing his pain.

Deliberately, he closed his eyes. “No.” he replied, besides he already had something coming to ease this hunger. 

“At least let me get you some coffee.”

“Fine. And—” he spoke quickly as she turned to go to the kitchen “—I’m expecting a delivery this afternoon. If I’m…asleep, will you sign for it?”

“Sure, but—”

“Thanks.”

That one word was a dismissal and she obviously felt it. He wasn’t about to explain about the delivery of blood for which he’d arranged before he knew his house would be occupied. And, he told himself, his business manager was going to pay for it as soon as he returned to Nightbrook. 

“Okay, be right back.”

He listened to the fire, letting its soothing sounds settle over him. Memories crowded his mind as sleep dragged him down—images of a different place, a different time, danced through his mind, one after the other. He allowed them to fill him and welcomed the pain as he remembered the faces of his family. His mother. Father. Sister. Wife. Then the images shifted, changing, becoming the living nightmare that was never entirely gone.

His family’s screams echoed over and over again in his mind and Aleron jerked awake suddenly with a shriek erupting from his own chest. The sun.

“Damn it!”

 He jolted from the couch and the wide beam of sunlight lying across it. The windows were uncovered to welcome whatever winter sunlight made it through the clouds. And the once shadow-filled living room was now bathed in a golden light that had already burned patches of skin from his hands and face. Skin smoking, eyes streaming, Aleron took one long leap and stood against the far wall, air wheezing from his lungs.

His fangs exploded in his mouth and the adrenaline coursing through him turned him into a dangerous creature. Age-old instincts rippled through him and whatever there was left of the man he’d been drained away. He was now a wild thing—looking for survival above all else.

“Fool.”

The day had made him slow and stupid. He should have secured the damn drapes. Made certain that no sun could reach him. But he hadn’t been thinking. He’d been so wrapped up in the past he’d forgotten about the present. He squinted into the sunlight streaming through the window and screaming pain lanced through his mind and body. His chest felt tight, his lungs strained for air. His skin was ablaze with burning agony. He turned his gaze from the window, lifted one scorched hand to protect his eyes and spotted Seraphine, who had stopped dead in the doorway.

As if in slow motion, she dropped the coffee cup she held. It shattered on the floor, brown liquid splashing up on her jeans. Her eyes wide, her mouth open, she looked at him and he knew exactly what she was seeing.

A monster.

__________

“Oh, my God!” She clapped one hand to her mouth and stared at him through horror-stricken eyes. “You…who…what are you?”

His lips peeled back from his fangs and she shrank back another step or two. Caught against the wall, splayed there as surely as if he’d been chained, Aleron watched her and focused only on her. He couldn’t allow her to panic. He needed her.

A part of him was sorry to see that look in her eyes. A part of him had enjoyed being treated as an ordinary man. Yet, he didn’t have time for her fear. He had only moments before the encroaching sun found him in the narrow patch of shade he stood in.

Staring directly into her eyes, he compelled her to do exactly as he ordered. “Go to the bookcase,” he said, his voice tight against the pain still lancing through him. His fangs retracted slightly, reacting to the agony sweeping through him. Hissing in a breath, he swallowed back the pain. “There’s a latch. Halfway down the first shelf. Pull it.”

She did, taking one small step after another, as if she were a marionette and someone else—he—was pulling her strings. She found the latch, gave it a hard yank and the bookcase pulled away from the wall with a loud creak from the hidden hinges. Seraphine only stood there, watching him, and Aleron couldn’t allow himself to think about what she was feeling.

The only way to safety lay through the slanting rays of golden light. More pain. But then, pain had become a way of life for him. Pain and hunger. Both of which jolted through his system, leaving him both ultra-alert and exhausted. Gathering what little of his strength remained, he braced himself for the dash through sunlight into the promised sanctuary of the hidden room. Using his vamp speed, he moved as quickly as he could, and soon he was safely in shadow again.

He hissed, and then Seraphine, free of his compulsion, came around the edge of the bookcase and gave him a hard look. Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps, her eyes still shone with the shock of a truth she could barely believe and the scent of fear wafted from her like a heady perfume. But there was more. There was also anger.

“You lied to me.”

He hadn’t expected that to be the first thing she said to him. “I didn’t lie.”

“You let me believe you were a man. But you’re not.”

“No.”

“You’re…” Seraphine broke off, unable to say the word her mind kept screaming.

“What? Say it,” he told her, 

“You're…” 

“A vampire,” he finished for her. “Yes.”