Acknowledgments:

 
I’d like to acknowledge the following people
for their roles, however tenuous they might be.
First of all my husband, Charles, who is
finally number one on something, for pretending to listen to me and
for all the “help” with synonyms.
My brother Chris, for his invaluable advice
on explosions, and for being my meanest critic. My mother, for the
multiple readings, and for donating the small portion of
imagination that I was born with and also my father for donating
the practical side to my personality, for which I am eternally
grateful. And, of course, my UK “representative” Rick for all the
encouragement.
I want to say a special thank you to Daniel
Kennedy, who inspired me to write again after I’d all but given it
up, as well as for listening to me vent and for his helpful plot
suggestions when I was stuck against a wall, not to mention for the
encouragement, advice and support that he’s given not only to me,
but to many others as well. I’m sure one of these days some of the
blessings he deserves will finally find him.
Carolyn Cason, without whose enthusiasm and
advice, I’d have long ago given up on this! She deserves massive
amounts of love and credit for all the time she put in for no other
reason than she liked the story. She deserves a fan site!
Dawn Metzger, who can always make me laugh
and who is always there to lend an ear throughout all the crushing
disappointments of life.
To the HPRP guys for being exceedingly
patient as I shirked my writing more and more; Jen, Amanda, Jase
and the rest of you. I also want to thank the old school HPFATG
guys as well as the now nonexistent HPFRP. Without you guys none of
this would have happened.
Of course, I want to say a big thank you to
all my peeps, both in Real Life, and on MySpace and Yahoo – If
given half a chance I’d list every one of you, but for the sake of
space you guys know who you are!
Lastly, to the most important one of all,
The God that so many choose not to believe in, without whom nothing
is possible and with whom anything can happen.
 

PREVIEW OF BOOK 2:
LEGACY OF GHOSTS:
 

Chapter One
Katelina woke with the taste of a bad dream
in her mouth. She shivered in the slowly deepening darkness and
looked around the motel room. All of the furniture, save the bed,
was stacked in front of the window to block out the sun. But the
pile was too small and the last light of a November day splashed
around it and onto the bed.
Katelina glanced over to the figure
stretched out on the floor, safely out of the way of the sunlight.
His long dark hair was fanned out against the ugly carpet and his
usually warm eyes were closed in sleep. His lashes rested on his
pale, flawless cheeks. He was beautiful; too beautiful, really. She
guessed that should’ve been her first clue to his true identity.
When she’d met him, she’d stupidly thought he was human, like she
was, but she’d been wrong. Jorick was one of them.
A vampire.
It had been almost two weeks since
Katelina’s world had been turned upside down by a single phone
call. In the days since, she’d learned a lot. Not only were
vampires real, but her friend Patrick had been involved with them.
In fact his brother, who’d murdered him, had been a vampire.
They were lessons that came at a heavy
price. Her best friend Sarah had been killed, and Katelina had
barely escaped death herself. Now, she and Jorick were staying in a
cheap motel and waiting for the sun to go down so they could travel
to his home. Not that she was sure where that was, beyond the
description “near the beach”. As long as it was quiet, she didn’t
care.
She slipped from the bed and stole quietly
to the bathroom where she shed her clothes and climbed into the
shower. As she washed herself, her mind replayed scenes behind her
eyelids. Arowenia; the dead child bride. Claudius’s den; the
torture she’d endured, her rescue, and then the final battle at the
dilapidated house where Claudius had been beheaded and Kateesha, an
evil vampiress, had claimed his coven.
It had been Claudius who’d hunted Katelina.
Claudius who’d killed Sarah and ransacked her house. Claudius who’d
ruined everything. Now that he was dead she should have been safe.
Instead, she had to fear Kateesha and her jealous lust for Jorick,
despite his assurances that they would be all right.
She dried off and examined herself in the
mirror. As she thought about Jorick, her eyes went straight to the
spot above her collar bone that bore his “mark”; a set of fang
marks with a lopsided cross scratched beneath it. When it healed it
would leave a scar, but she supposed that was the point: a vampire
mark to claim her as his property, or his human slave as Kateesha
called it. It was funny, in an ironic way, that the claiming was
one of the things that made Kateesha so angry, and yet he’d only
done it to make Katelina “legal” and save her from a vampire
execution squad.
Katelina dismissed the bad memories and
swept her gaze over what was left of her injuries from Claudius and
his men. Her black eye was faded and the lump on her head was
almost gone. The other bruises were colored in greens and yellows,
like a finger-painting gone bad. The worst was her shoulder. The
skin was pink and puckered around the stitches and itched – a sign
it was healing, or so her mother always said. If only the
uneasiness would heal, as well.
Katelina brushed out her long, blonde hair
and put on her clothes. The red dress, borrowed from another
vampiress, clung to her. She tugged uselessly at it as she walked
back into the bedroom. There, she found the sunlight gone and
Jorick awake. He’d partially disassembled the stack of furniture
and now sat in a wicker chair, wearing nothing but a pair of faded
blue jeans.
“Good morning.” He gave her a warm smile
that flashed his shining fangs. “Did you sleep well?”
She answered with a halfhearted shrug and
noticed that he had the gauze and ointment laid out on the small
table. “You’re playing doctor again?”
“At every opportunity,” he murmured
meaningfully. He smirked as she blushed, and indicated the empty
chair opposite him. “Sit down and we’ll get started.”
With her cheeks still pink, she did as he
asked. Gently, he treated and bandaged her hurts. His lingering
fingers did little to calm her pounding heart, but something in the
way he watched her made her cautious. He peered at her from
underneath his eyelids expectantly, but she didn’t know what he was
waiting for.
He finished in silence and leaned back in
his chair. She cleared her throat noisily, just for the sound, and
he finally relented. “I just wondered if you hadn’t changed your
mind about going home.”
She shook her head no and held up her
bandaged arms. “I can’t go home like this. What would my mom say? I
may be an adult, but can you imagine the hysterical fit she’d have,
anyway?”
Jorick nodded and commented casually, “Yes,
but someone’s listed you as a missing person. Perhaps…” he broke
off and gestured with his hand to dismiss the conversation. “If
you’re sure, then it’s fine with me.” He flashed a tight smile.
“How long do you plan to stay away from home?”
“Until I’m healed up, I expect.” She frowned
as she tried to figure up the date. “It’s almost Halloween now,
isn’t it?”
Jorick shrugged his shoulders. “The last
time I noticed the date was August.”
“August?” she demanded incredulously, then
rolled her eyes. “Never mind. There should be something.” She
stared uselessly around the motel room, then noticed the room
receipt crumpled on floor. She scooped it up, and smoothed the
yellow paper. “It’s-” a pause. “November first?”
She added dates up in her head, but came to
no conclusion before a knock sounded on the door, followed by the
call, “It’s Oren.”
Jorick shrugged his shoulders and stood.
“November sounds right.” He moved to the door and flipped the row
of locks. “Come in.”
Jorick’s fledgling, a tall vampire with
tawny hair and amber eyes, strolled into the room. It wasn’t just
his coloring, but his mannerisms that made Katelina think of a
lion. Though his long hair was tamed back in a ponytail and he wore
a button down shirt tucked into jeans, there always seemed to be
something just barely contained about the man. She wasn’t sure she
liked that.
Oren strolled to the middle of the room and
glanced from Katelina to Jorick, his face serious. “I think we soon
come to a parting.” He held Jorick’s gaze. “Unless you wish to join
my sister and me?”
Jorick shook his head. “No, Oren.” His eyes
flicked to Katelina and then back. “My fight was with Claudius, and
it’s over now. I have no reason to war against The Guild.”
Oren’s jaw tightened at the mention of the
vampire government. “Yes, I know. It wasn’t your wife and children
that they burned.” He quickly composed himself. “I apologize. The
fault isn’t yours, and I don’t seek to change your mind. I cannot
deny, however, that you’d be an asset. A former Executioner; one
whose blood is older than any who currently hold that title.”
Jorick held up a hand to stop him. “Perhaps.
But this isn’t my fight - at least, not yet.” He motioned to
Katelina. “She’s injured and needs time to heal both her body and
mind and digest all that’s happened. I’m sorry, but that must be my
priority, right now.” He added, wryly, “After all, I’m the one who
brought her into this, as you’ve so eloquently reminded me many
times.”
Oren didn’t look defeated or disappointed,
only unhappily satisfied. “I feared you’d say that.” He met
Jorick’s gaze, his spine straight. “I will not try to dissuade you
from the path you’ve chosen. You’ve rarely done so to me, and I’ll
return the favor.” He turned and started towards the door, but
stopped just before it. “If ever you wish to join us, there will be
a place of honor for you.” The invitation hung in that air like a
tangible object that Katelina wanted to reach up and brush
away.
“I know, Oren,” Jorick replied, looking past
the offer with another tight smile.
Oren nodded crisply. “I’ll take you as far
as your den, but then I have other things I need to see to.”
“I appreciate it.” Jorick moved next to
Katelina and placed a hand on her shoulder. “And I wish you
luck.”
Oren nodded to himself. “We will need more
than luck.” Then he added, “We can feed your human on the way.”
Before either of them could reply, he was
gone and the door closed behind him. Katelina let out a breath she
hadn’t realized she was holding. She’d been afraid that Jorick
would change his mind and agree to go with them into another
battle. She was sick of fighting and killing and blood. If he’d
said he’d go then – then what? Would she turn and run home, leaving
him alone? She didn’t know, but luckily she didn’t have to find
out.
Jorick packed what little they had with them
in a wrinkled shopping bag. He double checked the room over and,
without bothering to unstack the rest of the furniture, they headed
out into the night. The air was damp and cold. It cut through
Katelina’s borrowed dress as if it was made of tissue paper. Oren’s
giant blue car was almost a welcome sight and Katelina slipped into
the backseat without comment.
She settled back and wrapped her arms around
herself, shivering. Jorick climbed in, but she didn’t bother to
lean against him for warmth. Until a vampire fed their skin was icy
cold. It was only the heat of someone else’s blood that gave them
warmth.
Fed.
The word made her shudder instinctively.
She’d accepted the reality of vampires because she had no choice.
All she had to do was look around and the proof was staring at her
with glittering too-beautiful eyes. But somewhere, deep inside, was
a Katelina who believed in computers, fast food, Twinkies, and
concrete, and that Katelina didn’t like to think about anyone
“feeding” on blood. In fact, that Katelina didn’t like to think
about anything that had happened since she’d last been at work, two
weeks ago.
She looked towards the motel to see Oren
accompanied by his sister, a curvy red headed vampiress. Torina’s
long wavy hair bounced freely around her shoulders and her hips
swayed under a slinky dress. Her full lips were moving, but
Katelina couldn’t hear the words.
The pair climbed into the front seat and
Torina glanced back over her shoulder. She gave Jorick a once over,
pointedly ignoring Katelina. “You’re all ready?”
Jorick made a noise in his throat. “Yes.
We’re ready.”
Torina dismissed them both and turned back
to her brother. “As I was saying, we should move quickly.”
Katelina cringed, but Jorick laid his arm
casually over her shoulders and he gave her a smile, as if to say,
“Don’t worry.”
Oren started the car and dropped it into
gear. “We’ll make our plans later, Torina.”
“There shouldn’t be too many plans to make.
We kill whoever gets in our way and then I’ll rip out Kateesha’s
throat.”
“Kateesha?” Oren asked, surprised. “Our war
is with The Guild. She isn’t a part of the plan.”
“She’s part of my plan,” Torina growled. “I
owe her a debt, and it’s long overdue.”
Oren sighed heavily. “His blood is cold,
leave it that way.”
Katelina looked at Jorick questioningly, but
he made no sign he’d heard the conversation. She poked him in the
ribs, but he ignored that, too.
Torina’s green eyes flashed and she snarled,
“I could say the same of you, brother!”
With those words the car fell into a
sickeningly tense silence. Jorick gave Katelina a halfhearted smile
before he turned to stare through the window at the town that
slipped past. She wished they’d at least turn on the radio, but
couldn’t bring herself to suggest it. There were too many memories
running around her head for her to feel any kind of peace.
Though the vampires returned from an early
gas station break, looking warmed and fed, it was nearly eight
o’clock before Oren remembered his promise to “feed the human” and
stopped at a fast food place. It was after they parked that Oren
mentioned drive through, but Jorick assured him it was fine.
“I don’t mind going in.” He swung the heavy
car door open. “I’ll be right back.”
Katelina thought about going with him, but
she didn’t want anyone to see her all banged up, so she tried to
pretend that she was comfortable being left alone with Oren and
Torina. Not that she thought they’d kill her, particularly, but she
didn’t know what to say.
She watched Jorick lope across the parking
lot, his hands in his pockets, and disappear inside the building.
The door was decidedly uninteresting on its own, so she stared down
at her folded hands and willed Jorick to hurry.
Oren was equally stiff. He stared through
the windshield at his own secret world. Silence settled over the
three of them in a deep mantle, and only Torina was brash enough to
break it. She turned around, glared at Katelina, and said
pointedly, “Jorick has done much on your behalf. I hope that you
appreciate it.”
Katelina’s mouth opened, but no reply came.
It was like a scene from a bad date movie, only the characters were
all wrong.
Oren cut in, “Leave it.”
“I only think someone should mention it,”
Torina purred softly. “It isn’t every day that one of the old
Executioners – and Jorick, no less - sacrifices anything for a…”
she paused. “Mortal. He hasn’t had a lover in many years. And
she wasn’t of the mortal variety.”
“I said leave it!” Oren snapped firmly.
“Think about it! The way that ended, who
would think he’d ever look to a mortal for companionship?”
“Torina,” Oren hissed without looking at
her. “Stop.”
“Why?” Torina demanded. “You didn’t tell
Kateesha what not to say!”
“Because I’m not responsible for Kateesha or
the foolish things she says.”
Katelina tried to disappear into the
upholstery of the backseat, and it seemed to work as they continued
their battle.
Torina snorted sarcastically “The same as
you were responsible for Jesslynn?”
Oren’s eyes grew hard and skipped away from
her and back to the windshield. “Yes, Torina,” he replied, his tone
as cold as his eyes. “The same.”
Torina’s voice softened, though her words
didn’t. “You have no one to blame but yourself, and you know it.
You should never have allowed her to turn the children.”
“Enough! We’re finished!” He turned his head
and stared through the driver’s side window, his face white with
fury.
Torina growled low, and muttered something
under her breath before she turned to face the front. She sat with
her back rigid and her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at the
night outside.
Katelina tried not to think about Torina’s
words. A pang of jealousy tore through her chest at the word
“lover”. She tried to talk herself out of it, but it made the
gnawing in her stomach worse, so she turned to logic. “Jorick is
obviously…” she paused as she tried to find a description that
didn’t bother her, and settled on “old”. Yes, Jorick was old, and
it was stupid of her to assume he’d always been single. Still, the
thought of him with another woman made her feel… what?
Uncomfortable? And Torina’s other words didn’t help. Actually, it
wasn’t just Torina, but everyone. Their surprise when they saw her,
the sneer in their voices when they remarked that Jorick had a
“human”, like she was a diseased house pet that shouldn’t be taken
in public. And then Kateesha had gone out of her way to remind her
that, even as humans went, she was pretty much just a garden
variety woman. It made her wonder what Jorick saw in her; if, in
fact, he saw anything.
She was still musing on dark thoughts when
Jorick returned with a “to go” bag in his hand that smelled of
hamburger and soggy French fries. She took it gratefully, and
started eating before the car was even in gear. She’d never been so
tired of being hungry before in her life! It was like the near
starvation diet she’d gone on right after high school, except there
didn’t seem to be a way to give up and eat a whole carton of ice
cream. Jorick was the only one that remembered she needed food, and
he seemed to think she only needed it once a night. Feeding once
nightly seemed to be the vampire standard; but she wasn’t a
vampire.
Time disappeared into the primordial vacuum
that was a car trip. Katelina’s mind turned to jelly as she gazed
out the window, ready to weep from the complete lack of stimulus.
Her companions had all fallen into strange worlds of their own:
Jorick had lapsed into one of the dark, brooding silences that so
punctuated her time with him. Torina stared through the windshield,
a smile curving her full, pouty lips and Oren scowled at the road
as if it had angered him. Katelina couldn’t help but think that as
far as “road trip” companions went, these three ranked only
slightly higher than dead hamsters and moldy socks.
When they passed the “Welcome to Maine” sign
it gave her a chance to comment, but no one really cared, and the
conversation died quickly. Just when she contemplated screaming for
the shock value, they turned onto a well worn side road. The hope
of a journey’s end made her suddenly alert, and she was too busy
trying to pick details out of the darkness to worry about the
others anymore.
The headlights landed on a rusty mailbox
that leaned crookedly at the end of a long driveway. The sight did
little for Katelina’s optimism, and then she saw the back side of
the small weathered house and her heart sank. The house sat in the
middle of an untidy yard and some distance in front of it was a
thick stand of unruly trees, almost like a miniature forest that
she couldn’t see beyond. If she’d been hoping for something modern
and nice, then she was disappointed.
The car came to a stop where the gravel
driveway faded into a tangle of weeds. Oren spoke quietly without
looking back at them, “Here you are, Jorick.” He took a tense
breath and exhaled slowly. “I’d ask you to reconsider, but I know
it’s pointless.”
“Yes,” Jorick agreed. “It is.” He collected
the plastic bag of belongings and motioned Katelina to get out. “I
appreciate the ride, and if you wish, you and Torina may pass the
day here.”
Oren tried to smile, but it was a poor
imitation. “No, I’m afraid we must use the hours remaining us to
reach our destination. I thank you for the offer, none the
less.”
“Then it is as it is,” Jorick said simply.
He opened the door and a blast of icy air rushed in. “I wish you
well, and when we meet again I hope there is an end to this.”
“As do I.”
Without a reply, Jorick climbed out of the
car and Katelina made to follow him when Torina cried vehemently,
“It wouldn’t hurt you to help!”
“Torina,” Oren said softly. “Let him
go.”
“But look at all you’ve done for him!” she
insisted. “The least he could do is-”
Oren interrupted her, but spoke calmly.
“What I have done, I have done for myself.” He looked over his
shoulder at Katelina and commented without any real conviction,
“May we meet again.”
Katelina climbed out, feeling both cold and
uncomfortable. She took her place next to Jorick and they watched
the car reverse to the road. As it turned around, Torina wound down
her window and called back, “When you’ve gotten your fill of your
new pet, Jorick, you can join us.”
He grunted in reply as the car found the
road and disappeared. Soon, even the sound of the motor faded, as
if it had never been there at all.
An icy blast of wind shook the trees and
rattled the dry grass eerily. Katelina shivered, and it seemed to
draw Jorick back to the present. With another wordless grunt he
took her hand and led her slowly to the front of the house. “Look
at this,” he muttered. “Look at the state of this place.”
Katelina didn’t reply, only followed him
onto the small porch and waited as he fished a ring of keys out of
his pocket. She marveled at his “magic” pockets. He always seemed
to be pulling something out of them, and yet she never saw the
telltale pile of belongings that men left on the dresser tops when
they went to bed. What did he do? Just leave the stuff in there and
transfer it from one pair of jeans to the next?
The door opened and she hurried inside to
find that it was nearly as cold as it had been outdoors.
Jorick sniffed the air and muttered darkly,
“Stale.” He flipped the light switch and exclaimed with grudging
surprise, “At least the electricity is still on.”
Katelina’s eyes swept the room. It was
stuffed with antique furniture: a sideboard, a curio cabinet, a
collection of stands, a secretary, a set of slender wing backed
chairs, and a low couch that sat under the front window. The floor
was wooden, but two large rugs in mismatched patterns covered most
of it. A stone fireplace stood black and waiting in the corner and
gave Katelina some hope that heat was coming, however, it was not
the most prominent feature of the room. The thing that stood out
the most was the books. They were piled everywhere; on the stands,
in towering heaps on the floor, even in one of the chairs. Their
jackets ranged from shiny and new to old and worn, with no
discernible rhyme or reason to their locations.
Jorick continued to mutter unintelligibly as
he walked through a wide doorway and into the rest of the house,
switching on the lights as he went. Katelina followed close on his
heels as each room was revealed: a dining room, a kitchen, and a
bathroom. All were overrun with dusty books stacked at odd angles.
It was almost as if they’d been discarded randomly as they were
finished.
The house looped around on itself so that,
as they walked down a narrow hallway, they were facing the front
again. The small hall ended at two doors; one literally at the end
and a white painted one to the left. They came to a stop and Jorick
fell silent. He stared at the white door as if it might eat them
both. When nothing happened, he cleared his throat noisily and
glanced back at her. “You should go make yourself comfortable.”
“Make myself comfortable?” she echoed
uncertainly.
He nodded absently and fished the ring of
keys from his pocket. He slid the appropriate one into the door’s
lock and addressed her without meeting her eyes. “Yes. Start a fire
or something. I suppose it’s probably cold in here.”
“Well, now that you mention it-” she got no
further before he swung the door inward and disappeared through it.
“Hey! I don’t really know how to-” but the door closed after him,
effectively shutting her out.
“Jorick?”
The only answer was a loud click as the door
was locked from the inside.
“What in the hell?” She stared at the white
door, her brow creased in anger. Not only was his behavior odd, but
it was insulting! She couldn’t imagine what he’d be doing in the
room that required such secrecy, and the idea that he’d go to the
bother of locking her out made it worse. Did he think she’d bust in
on him?
She marched to the front room and stood
uselessly in the middle of the floor. How long was he going to be
in there? She was cold and didn’t know how to start a fire. Then
again, how hard could it really be? All she needed was wood and
matches, right?
Three logs lay in a basket next to the
hearth and a book of matches was discarded on the mantle. With
angry determination, she knelt next to the fireplace and carefully
lifted the logs inside. She ripped a match from the book, struck
it, and held it to the crumbling bark of one of the logs.
It took four matches, but soon infant flames
licked the dry wood. She leaned back on her haunches with a feeling
of pride as the fire slowly grew. “Ha, Jorick! Take that!”
She took turns warming different parts of
her body, then curled up on the rug before the hearth and watched
the flames. Her mind wandered, unbidden, to another fire she’d seen
recently. The memories of painful screams echoed in her ears and
she unconsciously put her hands to her head, as if to silence
them.
Desperate for distraction, she grabbed a
book from the stack that leaned precariously against the coffee
table. The title was faded from the worn cover and the peeling
spine. She wondered if it had been read too many times or simply
neglected.
Restlessly, she flipped the yellowed pages,
back to front. When she reached the inside of the front cover she
found smeared, spidery writing. Further examination revealed the
name “Jorick” and the date “December,1875”.
With a soft shudder she snapped the book
closed and put it back where she’d gotten it. The last thing she
wanted right now was a reminder of what he really was, so she
turned to the puzzle of their location. The matchbook on the
fireplace said “Stop N Shop – open 24 hours, Venice Maryland”, but
they were most certainly in Maine. Her brow furrowed as she tried
to organize the jumble of states in her mind. She remembered that
they’d been in New Hampshire at some point, though she didn’t know
where Maine, or even Maryland, was in relationship to it. She
should have paid more attention back when she’d been in school, but
why should she when there was always a map; in the glove box, or on
the computer, or in a book, or even on her cell phone. Only-
surprise! - there wasn’t a map now. Why had no one ever mentioned
the possibility of being cut off?
She waited impatiently for Jorick, and when
he didn’t come she went back to the books. When that got boring she
stretched out on the rug and closed her eyes. She banished
everything from her mind except a repeating cycle of song lyrics,
and let herself drift on warm tides towards a drowsy sleep.
When Jorick woke her, the fire had all but
burned itself to smoldering coals and the chill was back. “Come,
little one,” he said softly, his hand on her arm. “The sun will be
upon us soon.”
Katelina sat up and glared at him.
Irritatingly, his attitude said that he saw nothing wrong with
shutting her out of his little “secret room” earlier. “Let me
guess,” she bit off sarcastically. “You have a coffin in the
basement?”
He laughed for the first time since they’d
arrived, and she wasn’t sure if it annoyed her or made her feel
better. “As a matter of fact I do, but it’s for company. I have a
bedroom down there as well, and that’s where I’m going to sleep.”
He offered her a grin. “If you’d rather try the coffin though, be
my guest.”
“No, thank you.” She let him help her to her
feet and automatically straightened the red dress.
He ignored her frosty tone and gave her a
wink. “Don’t worry. You can take that off soon enough.”
A plethora of sarcastic replies rose up in
her, but before she could choose one they were already walking
through the house, leaving a trail of darkness behind them as
Jorick turned the lights out.
She followed him to the door at the very end
of the narrow hallway. It opened to reveal a landing and a set of
stairs that led down to a semi-finished basement. The walls were
painted white, but the floor was still cold concrete. A large,
cobwebbed furnace squatted in one corner near a sagging shelving
unit. Boxes and bits of broken furniture were gathered in random
pockets, and, just as Jorick had said, a large black coffin sat off
to the right, near two doors.
It was to one of the doors that Jorick led
her. Inside was a bedroom stuffed with a heavy wardrobe and a large
carved four-poster bed hung with blood red curtains. Katelina
stared at it and her lip curled in disbelief. “Someone has
flamboyant taste. Could you get any more textbook cliché?” Even as
she spoke, she wondered how he could have gotten the thing down
stairs and into the room.
“A souvenir from years long gone.” He ran
his hand over the footboard as if it were a lover he hadn’t seen in
months. “The only piece of furniture I’ve had since before.”
He stripped off his clothes, distracting her
from a sarcastic remark about the nature of his relationship with
his bed. Each piece of clothing fell to the floor to reveal an
expanse of perfect, pale skin that made her heart catch in her
chest, despite her anger.
He didn’t bother with pajamas, only turned
back the covers on the bed. He frowned down at the sheets and
muttered something that sounded like, “He didn’t even change the
bedding!”
“What?”
Jorick dismissed it as unimportant and lay
down. He settled himself and then looked to Katelina, who still
stood just inside the door. “Are you coming?” His tone was amused.
“Or would you rather watch me sleep?”
“Maybe,” she muttered, but her false bravado
did nothing for the blush that crept into her cheeks. The idea of
him watching her strip off, like she’d just watched him, made her
stomach churn nervously. Maybe it made her a prude, or just shy,
but she didn’t like anyone to see her naked. “No, I’m coming.”
“Good.” His voice switched to an almost
false innocence, “Then get the light, would you?”
She gratefully found the light switch and
flicked it off before she removed her dress. She crossed the pitch
black room slowly, until her seeking fingers found the bed, then
she slipped under the covers.
When she was settled, Jorick pulled her
against him, and kissed her neck softly. “Sleep well.”
Another snappy reply came to mind, but she
dismissed it. They could fight tomorrow, if that’s how it was going
to be. For now, she could let it go.
“You too,” she said quietly and snuggled
closer to him. Yes, tomorrow they could deal with everything.
Tonight, in a real bed at last, she could just pretend it didn’t
matter.