A Bailey’s Book Original

October 2009

Published by Bailey’s Books

P.O. Box 211

New Castle, CO 81647

Develyn’s Tale

Copyright © 2009 by Shannon Bailey

International Standard Book Number: 978-0-9740086-7-7

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2009906007

FIRST EDITION

This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, places and incidents either are product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased or event is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

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DEVELYN’S TALE

by Shannon Bailey

“Death is so unkind. Not for those who leave us, but for those of us left behind.”

Shannon Bailey

CHAPTER ONE

Develyn in Dixon

Develyn slapped the leather bound book closed and tossed it onto the coffee table in front of him. He rubbed his face wearily and ran his hands through his hair.

So Emily had journaled her time with David. It certainly wasn’t a surprise, but it irked him. It irked him because it was only half the story. Half the truth. And when the time came for David Johnathon Blackwell-Perkins to know the truth about his father and uncle, he should be told the whole of it. Starting with who his father really was . . .

After he had squeezed a few droplets of holy water between David’s lips, Develyn strode down the hallway to the bathroom. He had meant to pull Emily back to the room and finish the deed he had planned. But when his nose caught her wet scent and his eyes caught the sight of her nude body through the frosted glass of the shower, he wanted nothing more than to taste her blood. To taste her kiss. To have her . . .

With a growl, Develyn shot to his feet. In a flash, he crossed the floor, the tails of his aged black leather trench coat snapping angrily behind him. Stopping before an expanse of nearly floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto a wide river, he watched the sparkling blue water rush by. The smell of mud and fish filled his nostrils and the hollow thumping sound of a moored boat housed beneath the room, filled his head as his thoughts raced.

“Take her. Mark her, if that’s all you can bear to do. But whatever you decide, dear brother, do it now! Or I promise, this night I will take her and make her mine in every possible way. She’s only been Marked and should have forgotten me, you, everything by now. I’ll wager you couldn’t love him any more than you do at this very moment. Especially after such a night of passion. Right? Say it. Say you couldn’t love David any more than you do right now. Say it! I knew it. I knew you would be the one. Because every story has a villain, Emily. I just happened to be cast that role along time ago.”

It was true after all. Emily had a child. A son no less! It wasn’t a lie Valaree had concocted in a futile attempt to distract him from his objective.

In the history of their Order there had been only two other women who had given birth to an Unnatural Mortal’s child, but both those births were over a century ago and both babies had been girls. And although there had been other confirmed conceptions, none were able to carry through the first trimester and in the last fifty years, none reported at all. Many of their Order believed the changing world environment, the alarming amount of chemicals permitted in food production and the increasing dependency of over-the-counter and physician prescribed medications of the modern Natural Mortal woman, had destroyed any and all chances of future births. But Emily had been as exceptional as he first thought, and her son, little David, was proof of that.

“–Did you hear me, Develyn?”

Develyn turned his head toward the voice. “Come again,” he demanded sharply.

“I said, I’m through. No more spying. No more sneaking things from her house. Emily’s my friend and I won’t betray her again. I’m done. Consider my debt to you paid-in-full.”

At this, Develyn turned completely and faced the young man. He was tall, dark haired and good looking with an athletic physique that was accentuated by the dark blue jeans and pumpkin orange zip down sweater he wore. He was barefoot, pacing the honey-colored hardwood floor between a retro kidney bean-shaped coffee table and a massive wall unit that housed a large flat screen TV, assorted black electronic devices and shelves loaded with hundreds of books, CDs, and DVDs.

Pinning the young man with a hard stare, Develyn said, “I never considered you indebted to me, Benny.”

Dark eyebrows drew together over glittering blue eyes as Benjamin Alistair Gerardy III stopped cold and crossed his muscled arms over his wide chest. Was he mad? What did Develyn think the last fourteen months were, if not repayment for the enormous debt he owed him? Why else would he have uprooted his existence in London and move here to befriend and protect Emily Perkins? Just a favor between friends? He and Develyn had never been exactly that. “Never indebted to you?” he sputtered incredulously. “Even after what you had done for me when–”

“I could not prevent that,” Develyn interrupted with a shake of his head.

“True, but you had tried.”

“Yes well,” he began, crossing his arms over his chest, “you were just a thirteen-year-old boy. It was depraved. Even for Valaree,” he said dryly.

“Twelve, actually,” Benny said with a morose nod. “But you took me pity on me. And you helped me adjust to my new life.”

“Fine,” he snapped, turning back toward the window. “Then consider us even and your presence here, no longer necessary. Feel free to leave anytime– with my gratitude, of course.”

Benny bristled at this. Just who the hell did Develyn think he was? And how dare he show up here, now, after all this time! After all he did, or more accurately, after all he had not done.

Everyone in the Order knew the role Develyn had played in his brother’s death and they were stunned. Most believed it would have ended the other way around and when it became apparent that Develyn had only Marked Emily and not Turned her, their shock deepened. But it was the fact that he had ran off, went gallivanting around the world for nearly a year– Benny had heard the rumors of Develyn being spotted in Rio De Janeiro, Paris, Prague, Sidney, Johannesburg– and abandoned her, that had enraged them all.

In their Order, Marking wasn’t undertaken lightly. It was a vampire’s responsibility to watch over and protect any and all Natural Mortals they Mark, for as long as the Natural Mortal lived. Otherwise, a Marked, but unprotected Natural Mortal became like forbidden fruit to other vampires. As desirable and defenseless as a stray lamb in a forest of starving wolves. It was because of this very thing, Develyn’s abandonment of Emily, that Benny had to, over the course of the last year, discourage several vampires foolish enough to come sniffing around her.

But in spite of that, what infuriated him the most was that Develyn had apparently Broken with Emily as well. It was another form of abandonment not condoned by their Order, but Develyn had obviously done it. He had broken that mental bond with her that would have otherwise kept him informed, first hand, of her thoughts and feelings, and therefore, would not have been necessary for Benny to sneak into her house and steal her journal from its hiding place in her bedroom.

Develyn knew what the boy was thinking. Even though Benny was only six months younger in Unnatural Mortal years, he was eight Natural years younger than him and he would always be a boy in Develyn’s mind. And so it came as no surprise to him, when Benny boldly asked, “Just why have you come here, Develyn?”

Fighting the impulse to snatch the boy about the neck and toss him through the very window he was looking out, Develyn hesitated. He couldn’t possibly tell Benny the real reason why he had come there; the boy was just foolish enough to try and stop him. While he thought up a reasonable answer, he watched a little silver boat and its red-capped captain glide through the water. He waited until it disappeared behind the golden leafed trees of the island in the middle of the river before he calmly answered. “Why, to meet my nephew and assume my responsibilities of him and Emily, of course.”

With an angry click of his tongue, Benny dropped his arms and planted his hands on his hips. To assume his responsibilities was one thing. That Develyn could do without Emily ever knowing, but Benny figured Develyn meant to Re-Mark her to reconnect with her mentally. And to meet the child certainly meant Develyn was going to intrude into their lives and cause all kinds of pain and heartache for Emily. “Do you really think you should? I mean, for God’s sake, man!” he said, slipping into his natural British accent. “She’s been through enough!”

Damned impertinent pup! Develyn thought. As if he didn’t know what Emily has been through. As if he hadn’t felt her grief for David and hatred for him. As if he hadn’t heard her anguished thoughts! Her broken hearted cries for David! Her curses of him a thousand times over before he Broke with her. As if he didn’t know he should walk away and leave Emily to the peace she’s seemed to have found. Let her believe what she thinks to be the truth. Develyn wanted to shout these things at the boy, but instead, he merely nodded.

No longer bothering to keep his anger in check, Benny said, “I don’t think you understand, Develyn. When Emily came back from England, she was beyond distraught, grieved beyond consolation. She was so despondent. She refused to move from her bed for days on end. It came down to her mother and Robert force feeding her for God’s sake! If she hadn’t found out she was with child when she had, I’m not sure she–” he stopped short and with a shake of his head, crossed his arms over his chest again. “I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not going to let you harm Emily any more than you already have,” he bravely announced.

So there it was. The real reason why Benny had remained in this unassuming little burg and became Emily’s fierce protector. He was in love with her. Not that Develyn was surprised. He had expected it. In fact, he had counted on it.

There was something special about Emily Perkins. More than just her exquisite beauty and the incredible scent of her pure, sweet blood. She was strong-willed, intelligent and independent, like most other modern women, but it was her gentle nature that gave her an air of vulnerability and since David’s demise, a sense of fragility. Two attributes which were particularly appealing to the peculiar protector/predator instincts of vampires. Not to mention the fact that she had given birth to an Unnatural Mortal’s child had increased her desirability a thousandfold.

With a cold smile, Develyn turned and faced Benny again. His eyes darted to the small black leather journal, with its red ribbon marker, atop the coffee table and back to the boy’s face. “Am I to understand, you regard Emily as merely a friend,” he commented tightly.

Benny knew first hand by the things he had witnessed in their time together that Develyn wasn’t a man, or vampire, to be trifled with. And as he stood there, dressed in all black like the Angel of Death himself, and scowling murderously at him, Benny had to fight the urge to take a step backward. He opened his mouth to address the accusation he heard in Develyn’s voice, but then snapped it shut. Why bother? he thought. He was in love with Emily. But it was of no consequence, for he knew she would never feel the same for him.

With a defeated shrug and shake of his head, Benny said, “My feelings for her are irrelevant. Emily doesn’t have room in her heart for anyone but David.”

CHAPTER TWO

Family Affair

It was a picture perfect day for the Perkins Family Fall picnic. Overhead, the sun shone brightly in the clear azure sky and it was seventy degrees, warm for an early October day in the Midwest. And Lowell Park was the picture perfect setting for that picnic. Located just a few miles north of the heart of town, it was Dixon’s crown jewel. The most versatile and largest of the city’s parks with more than 200 acres of open fields, heavily-wooded, hilly and rocky terrain with hiking trails and winding roads meandering throughout. The elevation dropped 200 feet from the park entrance to the park and picnic grounds along the mighty Rock River.

People were everywhere. Fishermen cast their lines from the shore. Bicyclists pedaled slowly through. Couples walked hand-in-hand, while others walked dogs, pushed babies in strollers or jogged along. Children played at the swings and slides. Groups gathered at the old stone shelters and around the BBQ grills and fire pits throughout. The scent of charcoal and wood smoke filled the air and the sounds of barking dogs, laughter and shrieks of delight could be heard everywhere. All around red, orange and yellow leaves fluttered on the trees and the many that broke free, flitted and floated to the ground below.

Emily couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help thinking her cousin Heather looked like a giant lollipop. Her bird-like legs were encased in white leggings and the candy red turtleneck sweater she wore was stretched tightly over her very large protruding belly. She watched as Heather placed the toe of her white Vans tennis-shoe on her green croquet ball, and with a sound crack of her mallet, sent Emily’s yellow ball rocketing far out into the field.

Ignoring her cousin’s smug smile, she leisurely strolled after her ball. Same ole Heather, she thought with an exasperated sigh. She was her father’s brother’s daughter. They were the same age, Heather only four months younger, and they had been raised together and were once close. Same schools, same classes, same circle of friends– until puberty that is. That’s when their relationship turned competitive, at least on Heather’s part. From that point on, she was always trying to one up Emily, but she didn’t understand why. Compared to her, Heather had won, hands down, years ago. She was tall and slender, well, when she wasn’t pregnant, with short auburn hair, hazel eyes and general good looks. She and her husband of six years Wade Harrison owned and operated a successful graphic design company. And they would welcome their second child in just a few months. Heather’s life was perfect, where as her’s was . . . forever incomplete.

No! she thought defiantly. I won’t go there. To that dark place, where grief and loneliness– and the monster responsible for it all– still lurked. It had been weeks since the last nightmare and today was just too beautiful to waste her time thinking about him.

Peering up into the sky, she reveled in the feel of the late morning sun on her face. She felt warm and safe and she smiled. Unzipping her grape-colored, down-filled vest, she pushed the long sleeves of her gray T-shirt back and slipped her hands into the back pockets of her favorite faded jeans. As she waited her turn, her thoughts turned to happier things.

Despite that missing piece of her heart, Emily’s life was great. As perfect as it was ever going to be. She had inherited the bulk of David’s estate, including the house in Chicago that she couldn’t step a foot into. Moreover, a week after their son’s birth, Loretta had delivered a duffel bag of presents, what she referred to as the foldin’ kind, from the members of the Order. She was wealthier than she had ever dreamed of being, but more importantly, she and all those she loved, were healthy and happy. She had a small circle of great friends and a loving family that included her precious baby boy.

Emily was embarrassed to admit that she, as a woman of the 21st century and a health care professional no less, hadn’t even given birth control a thought the night she went to be with David. It never even occurred to her that she could become pregnant and David certainly hadn’t mentioned the possibility. Ultimately though, she realized whatever the reason for their over-sight, or lack of good judgment as some have whispered behind her back, she was thankful for the blessed outcome. Oh, but if only David could’ve lived long enough to see him.

Derailing that train of thought with a shake of her head, she sought out all those she loved and was lucky to have in her life.

Their party had set up an old charcoal grill and a mishmash of folding lawn and collapsing canvas chairs under a giant Maple tree with flaming red leaves.

Little David, wrapped in a baby blue and green blanket, was cradled in her mother’s arms. Other than in her own arms, David couldn’t be any safer, she thought with a smile. Emily knew, all too well, Catherine Perkins was an overprotective mother, but as a grandmother she was downright fierce. A real force to be reckoned with. Something she just recently fully understood and appreciated. As she looked at her, Emily noticed that her mother’s short, salt and pepper hair was meticulously styled as usual, but she was uncharacteristically dressed down. She was wearing black Sketchers, dark jeans, and a black zip down fleece jacket.

Next to her was her Aunt Meredith. Aunt Mere was a tiny, rail-thin woman who wore her long, gray-streaked black hair up in an old-fashioned bun atop her head and black rimmed glasses perched on the end of her narrow, pointed nose. She was dressed in all black– shoes, slacks, and a ribbed knit turtleneck– something she had started doing on her fifty-fifth birthday two years before, and even though she looked like a scary Goth librarian, she was a sweet lady, gentle natured and soft spoken.

On the other side of her mother sat Cousin Erin. She too had hazel eyes and auburn hair, but hers was shoulder-length, giving her a 50s silver screen siren look. Her figure was generous and it could not be denied in the curve-hugging green cardigan and dark jeans she wore. Erin was also different from her sister in the fact that she had a very pleasant personality. Like their mother, Erin was genuinely kind, and over the last year she and Emily had grown close. She was present at David’s birth and since; she just couldn’t keep away. She adored her new nephew and it wasn’t surprising to see her hovering over him. Emily knew it wouldn’t be long before Erin and her husband Chad would have one of their own.

A few feet away, Uncle Steven, or The Grand Grill Master as he preferred to be called at family BBQs, stood in the cloud of smoke at the grill. He wore an old gray sweat-shirt from his college days, the Michigan State logo barely legible any longer, and a pair of black sweats and sparkling white tennis-shoes. He was just as tall and thin as her father, and although he was two years younger, his dark hair was almost completely gray.

Benny and his girlfriend, Ione Weaver, were dressing the picnic table with a red and white checked table cloth. They were an attractive couple. He, tall and muscular, with dark chiseled good-looks and she, tall and willowy, with hiplength strawberry blonde hair, pale green eyes and delicate features.

Today the two looked as if they had just stepped out of an Abercrombie clothing ad. He with his dark expensive shades, orange cashmere sweater and dark wash designer jeans and she, in an orange and brown floral print short dress with a baby blue angora shrug and tall brown leather moccasins.

Emily noted that not only did they complement each other physically, but their opposing personalities meshed well. While Benny was outgoing, constantly cracking jokes and quick to smile, Ione was quiet and shy. They were very affectionate with each other, always holding hands, whispering sweetly and sneaking away for stolen moments together. They seemed to be very much in love and she was happy for them both. And to be honest, relieved.

When Emily had returned to work at the beginning of the year, it had been a little awkward between Benny and herself at first. She was sure Benny was attracted to her, even though she was clearly in mourning and carrying another man’s child. However, as soon as he and Ione began seeing each other, her guard relaxed and Benny became a very close friend within the last six months. There was something familiar about him that she responded to and felt incredibly comfortable with. He was always there to lend a hand to help or an ear to listen, and she was certain if she ever needed it, a shoulder to cry on.

But there were things she couldn’t share with Benny. He just wouldn’t have understood. No one could. No one except Robert. He was the only one who knew the truth about David. The only one she could talk to about him. And they did. They talked about David often. All the things she had wanted to know, but didn’t have the chance to ask him personally. It was that bittersweet bond that made them especially close. Something her family didn’t understand at first, but now fully acknowledged and accepted.

Turning, she saw the rest of the group standing with mallets in hand, beside their respective croquet balls. Her father, who was the third player, the black ball, was in the lead. Although he was dressed in his most casual clothes, faded jeans, a purple and white Dixon Dukes sweatshirt and white Nikes, he still looked very much like a high-school history/science teacher. Emily figured his wire-rimmed glasses, the distinguishing gray in his dark hair and the deep crease between his dark eyebrows gave his handsome face that perpetually perplexed look. As if he was always deep in scholarly thought.

Standing next to him was Erin’s husband, Chad. He was short and stocky, with close-buzzed black hair, a round baby face and big brown eyes that reminded Emily of a big ole teddy bear. Despite the cool weather, he wore hiking sandals and was dressed in long, multi-pocketed khaki shorts that left his large calves exposed and a plain white T-shirt that was stretched tightly across his barrel chest. As he and her father talked, he practiced his golf swing on the blue ball at his feet.

Several feet from them toward the center wicket, was the red ball and the team of Wade and his son, Joshua. Not only did these two look alike physically, with bright blonde hair and blue eyes, but they were dressed the same in jeans and orange and blue Chicago Bears jerseys.

And finally her eyes came to rest on Robert who was, as usual, wearing old faded jeans and worn sandals with white socks. However, today he was sporting a new, gray toggle button sweater over his purple Paisley shirt with the large collar. An unlit cigar stub stuck out from beneath his handlebar mustache at the corner of his mouth as he stood over his orange ball. With a solid wallop, he sent it shooting through the wicket and he let out a triumphant hoot.

However, her father would retain his lead and would be the first to strike the finishing stake. After the game, everyone gathered at the picnic table for a meal of grilled all natural chicken breasts, catfish and veggie burgers, organic fruit and green salads and homemade strawberry lemonade and iced tea. After the food was enjoyed and everyone had given it time to settle, it was time for the event of the day.

The Annual Perkins Family Triathlon was a family against family, three-part race that consisted of running, hiking and bicycling through the park. The family with the best time, and flag in hand, to cross the finish line won custody of the prized Perkins Family Mr. Potato Head and bragging rights for the entire next year.

In the past, Emily and Erin and Heather would do the first leg of the race, alternating years. They would run the 100 yards from the picnic sight to the head of Quarry Trail, where they would pass off the flag to their fathers who would then hike the half mile long trail upward 200 feet as fast as they could and pass the flag onto the moms. Who would then bicycle, coasting really, down Hairpin Curve Road back to the picnic site.

This year they decided to change it up a little. Due to Heather’s condition, Emily’s recent birth, and both mothers bowing out of the race entirely, the fathers would run the first leg of the race. They’d pass the flags off to Chad and Benny at the trail head, and then Erin and Emily would complete in the last leg of the race for their teams.

Even though Emily and her parents had won last year’s race, her Uncle Steven won the coin toss and chose to go first. Team Steven did well, completing the course in 23 minutes and 27 seconds.

Benny stood, shifting his weight from side to side as he waited in the shade at the trail head. He pushed the sleeves of his sweater back and ran his fingers through his hair. He was anxious. Not over the silly little race, of course, he knew they were going to win. It was no contest really, being hidden in the trees, he could travel as fast as he was able without the being seen by the Naturals. No, he was worried because Develyn was in the park.

Benny had felt his eyes on him and smelled his scent, but his senses now told him that Develyn was gone. He knew he was waiting for Emily at the top of hill where she would be alone. It would be the perfect opportunity for him to pounce. To re-Mark her. Or have his way with her. Or, God forbid, to Turn her. That last thought terrified him. Surely, Develyn wouldn’t do that to his nephew’s mother! Surely. But then again, Develyn was a cruel and unpredictable bastard. The last year was proof of that.

From behind his dark glasses, Benny watched John Perkins run toward him as fast as he was naturally able and he thought a hundred yards never looked so long.

CHAPTER THREE

Dangerous Curves

With his hands in his coat pockets, Develyn stood in the shadows of the woods as he watched Emily. She had walked away from her pregnant cousin and was standing alone in the green field. The sun glistened on her long dark hair that fell down her back in thick waves and a smile tugged at her full, strawberry colored lips. At that moment, he could have kicked himself, for many reasons to be sure, but in that particular moment, for having Broken with her. He would have given his eye teeth to know what she was thinking. What was it that made her smile so sweetly?

When she turned, he followed her line of vision to the child being held by a woman who was obviously her mother, and knew that was his answer. Her son, of course, was the reason for that smile.

Develyn remained hidden, and for hours he watched her and her family as they enjoyed a beautiful Sunday afternoon in the park, and although he fought against it, he was envious. He envied the warmth and love the little family– the ill-tempered pregnant cousin excluded– had felt and displayed for each other. Envious how they joked, told old stories and anecdotes and the sound of their laughter was nonstop. It had been a nearly century and a score since he was carefree enough to laugh, a real, genuine laugh– and the fact that Robbie and Benny were included in her family’s circle made his ice cold blood, boil.

When her Uncle Steven stood up and boisterously explained the race and its rules for the benefit of all the new family friends, Develyn knew where and when he would make his move. When it came time for her team to compete, he simply went to the top of the hill and waited. From where he stood, he saw a shiny red Chevy pickup pull into the lot and park at the Nature Center.

Emily hopped down, put on a black aerodynamic helmet and fastened it under her chin while her Uncle Steven unloaded the bike from the bed of the truck. Wishing her luck, he climbed back in and left.

The racing bike was actually her Uncle Steven’s old bicycle. A heavy, steel-framed Schwinn that was probably a decade older than herself. It was faded green, with fenders over the white-walled tires, a green and white triangle seat and wide handlebars with white grips. Kicking the stand back, she stepped on the pedal with her left foot, swung her right leg over and sat down. It may have looked like an old clunker, but the seat was comfy and that was all that mattered at the moment. After making a few slow circles in the parking lot, Emily headed for the designated meeting spot at the trail head.

Once Benny had the flag, he bounded up the path, the knobby treads of his hiking boots flinging leaves, damp earth and gravel far out behind him as he ran. He reached the top of the trail in just 65 seconds and since he had fed from Ione before the race, his system was working naturally. His breaths were ragged, his heart pounded and his brow was beaded with sweat. Taking a few calming breaths, he stepped behind a tree and watched Emily as she approached, knowing full well Develyn was nearby doing the same.

It came as no surprise when Develyn spotted Benny’s orange jumper through the trees before Emily had even arrived at the meeting spot. Develyn knew Benny was imagining he was up there, prepared to pounce on her, and he smiled bitterly, for the boy wasn’t wrong. He was envisioning carrying her off into the woods and Marking her again. But the thought of opening a vein and releasing her sweet pure blood, was making him tremble madly. It had been days since he fed directly from a Willing, and that woman’s blood wasn’t nearly as pure as Emily’s. Nor her face as exquisite or her body as desirable. What if he wasn’t able to stop himself, control his Unnatural Mortal desire for her blood or his Natural Mortal desire for her body? he thought grimly

Braking, Emily pulled off the road and jumped down off the seat and stood, straddling the bike.

In that part of the park, towering American White Pine trees flanked the road, casting it in shadows, and as a cool breeze whispered through them, the sensation of being watched washed over her. With the hair on the back of her neck rising, she scanned the dark woods on either side of her and looked down the road in both directions, but didn’t see a soul. There were no cars approaching. No people walking or hiking through the trees. No other bicyclists around. It looked like she was alone, but it certainly didn’t feel like it. Shivering, she pulled her sleeves down and zipped up her vest.

Benny noticed that she could feel their eyes on her and sense the danger, and so before Develyn could make his move, he stepped out from his hiding place and headed toward her.

Develyn’s jaws clenched and his arms tightened across his chest as he watched. The boy was being damned inconvenient, but Benny wasn’t, by any means, going to prevent him from doing what he had come to do. He would simply follow her and make his move when able. He remembered from his drive in that there was a spot just past the overlook turnoff where the road tightened into a hairpin curve. Emily would have to slow down considerably and he would stop her there, carry her off into the woods and Mark her again.

Emily had been waiting only a few moments before Benny emerged from the trees. She was too relieved to see him to take notice of or question his incredibly fast hiking time.

Although Benny knew exactly why she was feeling uneasy, he had to pretend as if he didn’t. Pretend as if he didn’t notice her furrowed brow and blanched features. Pretend as if he didn’t smell the scent of her fear or that it ignited his most primitive vampire instincts. An image of carrying her off into the woods and sinking his own stryker deep into her neck flashed through his mind.

With a curse, he shook his head to clear the picture, and as he approached her, he removed his sun-glasses and hooked them on the collar his sweater. Wiping his brow with the back of his arm, he flashed a wide, white-toothed smile at her. “We got this, Emily! Go! Ride like the wind, dude,” he urged excitedly, handing over the flag.

Chuckling at what she assumed was his competitive enthusiasm, Emily took the flag and tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans. “All right, all right. See ya down there in a flash,” she said and started off.

Benny waited until Emily pulled away before he looked across the road and met Develyn’s eyes from within the shadows of the trees. The two men stared at one another. And with a nod they acknowledged their once friendly relationship had, at that very moment, become adversarial. With a dark look that promised serious repercussions for any future interference, Develyn tore off after her.

Emily had to stand up and pedal hard at first, but as the road began its descent, she didn’t need to pedal at all. She coasted, enjoying the sense of freedom, the scent and the feel of the cool Autumn air on her face and the beauty of the fall foliage all around her. At the first corner, she braked slightly, but at the second, she had to brake harder.

As the grade of the road dropped dramatically, her speed increased and she was soon flying, making the dried red and orange leaves dance wildly in her wake. When she came up to the third corner, at the overlook rest area, she braked again, but there was a metallic thunking noise and the pedals locked.

Something had happened to the chain and she couldn’t brake! She was in real trouble! Her first thought was to jump from the bike or drop her feet and try to stop it that way, but she knew if she did either, she would end up seriously hurt. However, she knew if she did nothing, she was going to crash into the low rock wall ahead and probably be catapulted over it, and there was no way she would survive the fall. She knew she would never see her son again. Little David would never know his mommy! He had already lost his daddy! It was so unfair! Please God, don’t take me from him too! she thought frantically. “Oh, God, no! Please, no!”

Keeping just inside the tree line, Develyn ran, the soles of his fine Italian leather shoes barely touching the ground as he moved quickly and quietly beside her. He ducked under branches and vaulted over logs and as the terrain began to change and drop in elevation, he leapt easily from the ledges and cliffs. As they approached the third corner, he heard a noise and when he looked over at her, he saw her attempting to brake. Immediately, he knew the chain must have jumped from the sprocket, which meant Emily would not be able to stop. She would crash and be seriously injured, or even killed, and for the babe’s sake, he couldn’t let that happen. Before he even heard her terrified cry, he had bolted out of the trees and jumped down onto the road.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emily saw a dark figure appear beside her. She felt a strong arm encircle her waist and a man’s voice cry, “I’m going to stop you! Just brace yourself!”

Everything was happening so fast she didn’t have time to think or examine the extraordinary rescue being attempted– the rock wall was only a few yards away. Doing as the man instructed, she gripped the handlebars hard, braced her feet on the pedals and squeezed her eyes shut as he yanked her and the bike to a violent standstill.

When she realized it was all over, that she was safe, she opened her eyes and saw that she was only a few feet from the wall. With a sob, she hopped down and sucked in an uneven breath. Stunned and shaken, she looked over at her rescuer to thank him, but when she saw his face she gasped.

She knew that face! That pale handsome face.

Short, black hair– prominent brow over brown eyes– straight nose– sculpted lips– strong jaw. She saw that face every night before she fell asleep. Every time she glanced at any of the silver-framed photos throughout her home. Every time she looked at her phone or worked at her computer. God, it was David! David was standing before her, like that night at the gate– No! David was gone. Dead. She had sprinkled his ashes in England. This was– “Develyn?” she croaked sickly. “Wh, what are you doing here?”

Develyn, still holding onto the bicycle by the seat, stretched out his free arm and bowed dramatically. “Presently, saving you from a nasty spill that not even that,” he said nodding toward her helmet, “would have done much good. But ultimately, I have come to see my nephew,” he said, flashing a charming white smile. “If I may, of course,” he added, with a slight dip of his chin.

At first Emily was shaking her head from shock and denial, but as he spoke, it was out of anger at his audacity. How dare he come here and ask such a thing?! As if she would ever let him near her child! “Never!” she rasped.

Although Develyn had expected her reaction, it still enraged him. His eyes narrowed and his smile shrank, becoming a grimace. Pushing the bike carelessly out of the way, he advanced on her.

Flinching at the sound of clanking metal, Emily glanced over at the bike and back to his pale angry features that now loomed over her. “I only asked as a courtesy, Emily. You seem to forget, my dear,” he began coldly, reaching out and grasping roughly her by the arms, “I can do any damned thing I desire and you are powerless to stop me.”

Emily knew it was too late to look away. Develyn had already pulled her into an enthrallment. He swept her up in his arms and as he moved quickly up into the woods, she was terrified. This was her worst nightmare coming true! Develyn had come back to Turn her. She just knew it. It was the very reason why she had journaled her time with David. Although she knew her parents were far too pragmatic to believe the story she had written, she had wanted a record, an explanation of some sort to leave in the event she had to disappear from her loved one’s lives one day.

Emily wanted to fight against him, scream for help, but it was useless. All she could do was whimper when he set her on her feet, and as he stepped close, pressing her against the wide trunk of an old elm tree with his cold hard body, she could smell the overpowering scent of his expensive cologne.

Holding her gaze, Develyn unclasped her helmet, tossed it aside and unzipped her vest. His eyes dropped to her heaving breasts and devoured the sight. They were considerably larger than he remembered, which meant she must breast feed the babe and that, instinctively, pleased him. He smiled. “Motherhood seems to agree with you, my dear,” he murmured and after a moment of drinking in the sight of what his fingers itched to touch, he recaptured her eyes.

Producing a silver stryker from his coat pocket, he slipped it on his right thumb. Delving his other hand into her hair, he pulled her head back, fully exposing her neck to him. Softly, he ran the tip of the stryker along her jaw line and down the column of her neck, before firmly pressing it into the plump pulsing vein just above her collarbone.

Instantly, a dark red puddle welled up around the stryker’s tip and he lowered his head toward it and inhaled. Her blood smelled strongly of iron and copper, as did every Natural Mortal’s typically, but he didn’t draw attention to that mundane aspect of it. He never did. It wasn’t something he had ever murmured to a Natural. Instead, he always complimented the women on their overall scent. He found it was simply more pleasing for them to hear. “Ah, yes, sunshine and roses. Just as I remembered. You haven’t changed much, my dear, and the fact that you are mine, hasn’t changed at all,” he whispered hoarsely. Pulling the stryker out, he clamped his mouth down on her neck.

Emily was screaming on the inside, but the gasps and whimpers that came from between her parted lips, sounded as if she was in the throes of passion, and not in the grips of fear and revulsion. Which she was. She was being violated by a vampire she despised! The monster who murdered the man she loved and robbed their son of his father! She wanted to push him away, scratch his eyes out and knee him in the groin, but her arms lay limply at her sides and her legs were just useless props holding her up. She was completely at his mercy and it sickened her. But what far outweighed her revulsion, was her fear for her son. Why did he want to see him? Was he planning on stealing him from her and Turning him into a vampire one day to ease the loneliness of his miserable existence like he had done with David. Oh God, save us from this evil monster! she thought frantically.

Develyn needed only a taste to re-Mark her, but the euphoria he felt when he swallowed the first mouthful of her fear-laced blood was dangerously intoxicating and he drank greedily.

Colors exploded behind his eyelids. Her scent overpowered that of damp earth and rotting leaves. Every nerve in his body awoke and crackled with life. His insides felt as if they had been lit afire and he began to warm quickly. The sounds of birds chirping and leafs rustling around them sharpened to a point where it was almost painful and then the pounding rhythm of their hearts filled his ears, only to be drowned out within moments by her racing thoughts.

Emily felt intense heat everywhere his body came into contact with hers– his tongue and mouth on her neck. His hand gripping her hip. His chest crushing against her milk swollen breasts. His enlarged penis and pelvis locked against hers– and she wanted to vomit.

Develyn knew she was losing consciousness and with a considerable amount of self-control, he stopped drinking and pressed the tip of his tongue against the puncture until the bleeding stopped.

His breathing was ragged and his voice thick when he lifted his head and whispered at her ear, “I’m not here to harm you or the child, Emily. I simply want to see him and I will not be denied.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Old Wounds and Regrets Revisited

When Emily came to, she was lying on her side in the woods. She wasn’t sure how long she had been laying there, but she sensed it had been only a few minutes.

Pushing herself up, she looked around in confusion. She ran her hand through her hair, combing a dried leaf from it in the process. When her fingers brushed her along her collarbone, Develyn’s fierce face flashed before her eyes, and everything came rushing back. The picnic– Benny handing her the flag– The bike ride down the hill– The pedals locking– Develyn rescuing her– Develyn Marking her– Develyn telling her why he had come back.

Panicking, she scrambled to her feet. Noticing a crumpled up black leather coat that had been her makeshift pillow, she felt a resurgence of revulsion. Kicking it away as if it were the vilest thing she had ever seen, she took off running, her feet crunching loudly through the fallen leaves.

At the roadside, she skidded down the steep incline and as soon as her Sketchers hit the asphalt, she took off running. At the bottom of Hairpin Curve Road, she cut across the field to their family’s picnic site, to her son.

As she approached, she saw that everyone was sitting in a small circle around the end picnic table that Benny and Ione were leaning against. Next to Ione was Robert, who was now holding David. Next to him was her mother, then father, Uncle Steven, Aunt Mere, Cousin Erin, Chad, Wade and finally Cousin Heather, while their son, Joshua, was asleep on a blanket in the center.

Benny had been anxiously awaiting her return and when he saw her, his still naturally beating heart squeezed painfully at the sight of her blanched features and panic-stricken eyes. He sensed Develyn had re-Marked her and the scent of him on her, enraged him. Fists clutching angrily, he pushed himself away from the table. Although he wanted to run to her and pull her into his arms, he stayed rooted where he stood. And although he already knew the answers to his questions, he again feigned ignorance and called out, “Emily! Are you all right? What happened? Where’s the bike?”

With that said, everyone turned to her and once they saw her harried, disheveled state, everyone stood as the group erupted in excited chatter. Ignoring the bewildered looks and frantic questions from her parents, she hurried up to Robert and collected David, who, sensing her agitated state, began to squirm and gently cry.

Meeting Robert’s troubled eyes, she fought back tears and snuggled David close. She kissed his dark little head and breathed in his sweet scent and began to gently rock side to side. After a few moments of cuddling and cooing, David slipped back into peaceful sleep and she turned and faced the group.

Calmly and quietly she related her story of the bike incident. A far less harrowing and completely vampire-free version of course, but one that shocked everyone, left her parents visibly shaken and her Uncle Steven apologizing profusely.

As she assured them she was all right and no harm done, she was struck by the truth of the words David had once told her. ‘A little white lie, designed to save a loved one from needless worry and pain, is well worth telling.’ Seeing her parents’ fear stricken looks and her uncle’s guilt-ridden one cut her to the quick. She never wanted any of them to know just how close she came to dying that day.

Benny watched Emily as she told her tale to her captive audience. He was surprised how well she was able to convince everyone that she was fine when she so clearly wasn’t. She was death white. The pulse point in her neck thrummed. Her pupils were dilated. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. To him, her fear was palpable and the scent of it was making his human facade slip dangerously. Fighting the urge to carry her off into the woods and tear open the same vein Develyn had just tapped into and feed on her himself, Benny volunteered to fetch the bike. He left before anyone had a chance to acknowledge he had even spoken.

Still shaken, Emily hastily bade everyone goodbye and with one final assurance to her parents, she, David and Robert left.

After snapping David’s carrier into the car seat, Emily climbed into the back with him and Robert waited till she closed the door before he turned the key. As the engine came to life, he peered into the review mirror. The poor girl was as pale as milk in moonlight and she was trembling like the last Autumn leaf on a tree. He suspected it wasn’t just the close call she had told them about. Something had her scared her to her very core. “Fer heaven’s sake, gurl. What is it? What really happened back there?” he asked, backing out of their parking spot.

Tears sprang to her eyes and she shook her head. She didn’t think she could say the words aloud without breaking into hysterical sobs. Unconsciously, she touched the wound above her collarbone and Develyn’s face flashed through her mind. Squeezing her eyes hard against the image, she whispered, “Develyn is back. And he–” she paused, remembering he had first saved her life, but what he did after, had totally negated the nobility of his rescue, and she didn’t even mention it, “he dragged me into the woods and Marked me. But that’s not all,” she said, casting a fearful glance at her sleeping son, “he said he wants to see David.”

Robert spat a terse curse and pounded his fist against the steering wheel. “I knew it!” he said, slamming the car into drive. “I knew that bastard would be back. I’m so sorry, gurl, I shoulda killed him when I had the chance.”

With a sniff, Emily met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “David said Develyn would’ve killed you that night if you had tried.”

His gray head nodded. “Aye, tis true. If David hadn’t Marked me that night long ago, my poor Laura Ann woulda been doomed for sure, but that’s not what I’m referrin’ to,” he said, his eyebrows drawing together.

With apprehension squeezing her chest and her own brow furrowing, she softly demanded to know what he was referring to.

“That mornin’ when David was . . . When he– ”

“Yes, I know which morning, Robert,” she snapped emotionally, wishing he’d just get to the point.

“It was early. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, when I heard somethin’, a noise, a voice, somethin’, that woke me. I grabbed me pistol and–”

“Pistol?” she interrupted.

“Aye. A child’s toy. A water pistol filled holy water–”

The low tones of her Fur Elise ring tone interrupted him. Robert reached over and took it from her purse on the front seat and handed it back to her. Seeing it was her mother Emily didn’t bother to answer it. With an aggravated sigh, she tucked it under her leg, and ignoring the music as best she could, met his eyes in the mirror and nodded for him to continue.

“By the time I reached the second floor, I heard glass breakin’ and when I hurried into the parlor and I saw Develyn. Well, he was just a dark figure in the moonlit room, really, and he was . . . crazed. Cursing and bellowing like a man possessed and swattin’ lamps and throwin’ furniture about the room like a child tossin’ his toys in a fit. He threw a chair through the front windows and kicked one sofa so hard, it rocketed across the floor and stuck into the wall. And when there was nothing left for him to destroy, he threw his head back and let loose with such a howl . . . ” Emily was sure she saw him shiver as he paused. “It was the likes of which I had never heard before. And I pray to God, never will again.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and when they opened they were glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t know why I dinna take a shot. Why I hesitated,” he muttered, with a grave shake of his head.

“Don’t blame yourself, Robert. None of this is your fault.”

He shook his head as if to argue. “If only I had gotten off a shot that would’ve paralyzed him long enough for me to sink me blade into his black heart,” he muttered angrily.

Emily knew she should have been appalled by Robert’s vengeful words, but she wasn’t even phased. She, herself, had wished Develyn dead many times over in the past year. Her fantasies ranged from versions of Develyn being the one who was killed that terrible morning to confronting Develyn and killing him herself. Having the opportunity and the strength to sink the blade deep into his chest and watching him burst into–

“Whatever the reason,” Robert began, rousing her out of her dark daydream, “I didn’t do it and when he finally took notice of me, he was on me within a shake of lamb’s tail. He knocked the gun from me hand and it shattered on the floor. And you know what the arrogant bastard said? ‘It’s only a little bit of water. It’ll dry soon enough.’ And then he looked me in the eyes and said, ‘If I didn’t have some unfinished business to tend to, I would let you kill me right here and now, old man. But as it stands, Robbie, I need you to see to my brother’s last wishes and his woman.’”

Robert wiped at his nose and cleared his throat before he spoke again. “He stepped aside and that’s when I saw David, lying there, wrapped in a sheet, on the sofa. Already gone.”

Emily fought back a sob, but didn’t bother hiding the tears that had slipped from her eyes. Swallowing with difficulty, she turned and stared out the window.

For a moment, neither one spoke. Each engulfed with renewed grief, and in the silence, the phone rang again making them both flinch. Grabbing it, Emily flipped it open and angrily barked into it, “Mom! Please! I told you. I’m fine.”

“Well, my dear, your mother does not appear at all fine,” came Develyn’s deep voice. “In fact, from where I’m sitting, your parents still seem quite upset by your little mishap.”

Emily’s heart jumped in her throat and she sat forward. “Develyn! Stay away from them! Please don’t hurt–”

“Stop!” he bellowed back. “I told you, Emily, I’m not here to harm you or the child. Or anyone else for that matter.”

Her stomach knotted painfully and she felt like she was going to be sick, but she boldly retorted, “Well, excuse me if I don’t believe a single word you say, Develyn.”

With a chuckle, Develyn coolly responded, “Touche’, my dear. However, I am here to see David and see him I will. And as a token of my sincerity, I will let you decide when and where our little visit shall take place.”

Emily hesitated. She met Robbie’s troubled eyes in the mirror as she wondered what to do. She didn’t trust Develyn and she certainly wasn’t swayed by his proposal, but she knew there was no possible way she could stop him from doing what he wanted. She knew she had no choice in the matter.

With a heavy sigh, she gave in, and said, “Fine. Noon tomorrow. Northwest corner of Old Courthouse Square.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Develyn’s Discovery

Develyn stepped from around a tree and watched Emily disappear into the woods. Retrieving his jacket from the ground, he shook it out and slipped it on. He picked up her forgotten helmet and followed her path back to the road, where he left it beside the bicycle. Slipping on a pair of extraordinarily dark sun-glasses, he delved hands into his pockets and began whistling a tune he had heard Joplin first play at the World’s Fair in Chicago back ‘93.

By the time he had reached his car, a sleek silver Jaguar XK that drew far more attention than he needed, he saw Benny striding toward his pick up. Develyn had to admit, the boy was quite adept at blending in with his surroundings, something every vampire was quick to learn. Not only did Benny look and act like a young man in a small Midwest town, but his vehicle was perfect. It was a mid-80s Ford, midnight blue with big knobby tires and shiny chrome rims and bumpers.

Yanking open the door of the truck, Benny paused and shot him a glare that made Develyn chuckle. If looks could kill, Develyn knew he would be nothing but a pile of ashes sitting in the driver’s seat.

As the pickup roared away, Develyn turned his attention back to Emily. He watched as everyone flitted excitedly about her and the babe as she told her story and he remained there in the park long after the phone call he made to her. Long after the last of her family, Benny and his Willing had left. Long after the warmth Emily’s blood had given him, had faded.

As the sun began to set, Develyn left in search of lodgings, somewhere that afforded him the degree of peace and privacy he required.

In his search, he passed by the courthouse square that was to be the meeting spot the next day. The building was a large three-story limestone structure that sat on a square, elevated piece of property in the middle of town. As he continued, he discovered Dixon was an old and established village, evident by the homes and buildings from every era of the last 170 years.

It was a small town, encompassing roughly only eight square miles and was completely surrounded by farmland. He noted it had all the essential civic and civil organizations and offices, professional services and typical enterprises as well as modern businesses and conveniences that catered to the contemporary needs and tastes of its citizens.

All in all, Emily’s hometown was a quaint, but vital community that was an ideal place to raise a child. Undoubtedly, another reason, other than to be near family, why Emily had remained there and not taken up residence in David’s house in Chicago.

However, on his scouting mission Develyn was unable to find a suitable dwelling within the city limits, so he tried his luck with the outskirts of town. He traveled in all directions, but it wasn’t until he headed north, passed Lowell Park, when he spotted an old and abandoned farmhouse.

Pulling off the highway, he lowered the passenger window and peered out. It was a Queen Anne styled Victorian, well over a hundred years old. Down an overgrown lane and amongst overgrown bushes, it sat far back from the highway and was surrounded by harvested corn fields. The front porch was collapsed in on itself. The roof sagged dangerously on the main section of the house and was partially missing on the rounded turret. A single decorative scrolled corbel dangled precariously from the left eave. All the wood was bare and gray with weather and age and there were only black holes where all the windows used to be.

Taking a sip of whiskey from his flask, Develyn stared at the decrepit shell in the cold bright moonlight.

It was brilliant. Bloody perfect, really, he thought with a snicker. Old and empty on the inside, just like me.

CHAPTER SIX

TESTS PASSED and PATIENCE TESTED

Standing in the shade of a great oak tree with flaming orange leaves, Develyn surveyed his surroundings from behind the dark lenses of his sun-glasses.

It was another sunny warm day and people were out enjoying what was sure to be one of the last summer-like days of the year. People were everywhere. Sitting and having their lunches under the many trees throughout the courthouse yard. Sitting out on the first and second balconies of the apartment building across the street. Walking by on the sidewalks that cut through the courthouse grounds and on the sidewalks below. Zipping past in cars and trucks and on the occasional motorcycle.

Emily was a clever woman, he thought with a smile. The time and locale she had chosen for their contentious little meeting was ideal. Midday, first day of a work week was typically busier than any other time and the corner she picked had to be at the busiest intersection in the whole town.

It faced both Galena Avenue, the main north/south running thoroughfare– hence the placement of the white arch that spanned the four lanes and proudly displayed the Dixon name in purple letters– and 2nd Avenue, one of the major east/west running streets. He deduced she must have considered it the most secure as well. From where he stood, there was a red brick Baptist church across the street to his right and a white stone Presbyterian church across the street to his left. A fire station a half a block directly west and, he remembered from his scouting mission the night before, the police station was just a stone’s throw from the southwest corner of the square.

Of course he couldn’t blame Emily for her distrust of him or her intense hatred, but in light of what he had come to do, Develyn needed to appear less threatening to her. He was resolved not to lose his temper and he decided to dress a little less international assassin and more typical American guy. Earlier that morning, he had gone to the nearest shopping center and bought a pair of Levi’s, a blue button down shirt and casual jacket of brown suede.

As the bell in the tower of the Baptist church began to toll, Develyn was, once again, reminded how long it had been since he had been a part of the Natural Mortal world. He closed his eyes as he listened– the birds chirping– people talking and laughing– the resonating church bells– and he was transported back to the spring of 1890. To that Sunday afternoon in Cambridgeshire when he and David had taken their luncheon at the Red Feather Inn. How they carried on and spoke excitedly of their futures that awaited them in London the following summer . . .

As the sound of last bell faded, so did his memory, and he became aware of someone’s eyes boring a hole through him. Glancing around, he noticed that a pair of young women, obviously clerical staff from the courthouse, were casting curious glances his way. When they saw him looking their way, they giggled and dropped their eyes, but the sensation didn’t subside.

Turning around, he saw Emily approaching from the east. She was dressed as if it was already the dead of winter and she wore a knee-length tan woolen coat and a green scarf wrapped snugly about her neck. She had a child carrying device hooked on her right arm, but her attention was on the cargo inside it.

Looking past her, Develyn spied Robbie. He was wearing a red and black checked flannel shirt and jeans, and although he couldn’t see them, he knew he was wearing white socks and with his sandals. A particular habit of the old man’s that annoyed him. Closing the passenger door, Robbie leaned back against it, crossed his arms over his chest and openly glared at him. Figuring he was most likely the reason for the uneasy feeling, Develyn acknowledged him with a dip of his chin and returned his focus on Emily and the babe.

Emily had stopped, well out of arm’s reach he noted, and reluctantly met his eyes. From the moment Develyn had Marked her in the woods, he had heard her every thought. The renewed grief for David, every hate-filled, vengeful wish on him and every fearful worry for her son. He had also experienced every nightmare that had plagued her sleep and so he was not surprised by her pale and drawn features and the firm set of her mouth. Reminding himself to remain collected, he clasped his hands behind his back and greeted her with a slight bow. “How good of you to come.”

Emily stiffened, as if the sound of his voice hurt her ears. With a scowl, she softly muttered, “Spare me. As if I really had a choice.”

Develyn bit back a smile. He admired her bravado. She was obviously still frightened of him. Her thoughts were racing as quickly as her heart was thudding against her ribs, but her hatred for him and the protectiveness of her child had given her an incredible inner strength.

With another bow, he said, “Again, touche’, my dear.”

Forcing air through her nose, she spat, “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

Lifting the carrier, Emily held it before her and presented her son to him like the precious gift he was.

Develyn took his sun-glasses off and squinted painfully against the sun. He took a hesitant step forward and inhaled the sweet scent of innocence and new life. As he peered down at the sleeping baby, he thought he had never seen a more magnificent child. For the first time since that evil bitch, Valaree Von Wahran, had forced her vile blood down his throat, Develyn was glad he was a vampire. For if he was a Natural, tears would have welled in his eyes and his breath would have caught in his throat at the sight of the child who was clearly a wondrous combination of father and mother; chubby cheeks, nubby little nose, thick cap of dark black hair and full pouting lips so like his mummy’s.

But as it were, all Develyn could do was gape silently and wish he could scoop the babe up and hold him close. Unconsciously, he stepped closer and Emily retreated a couple steps defensively.

Without taking his eyes from the sleeping child, he said, “Worry not, my dear, I would not dare touch him. I am far too cold at the moment.”

The naked look of tender amazement on Develyn’s pale face and the words he spoke, sounding so much like David’s, took Emily completely off guard. She almost felt sorry for her overreaction, but remembering who he was and how they all had come to be there that day, she recovered quickly and said, “Well, you’ve seen him. And now, we’re leaving.”

Her words snapped him out of his reverie and Develyn’s eyes shot to her face. “No, wait. Please, uncover him and step into the sunlight.”

Emily paused and glanced around nervously. “I know what you’re thinking, but we’ve already tested him. Robert told me about all about the two women that were born like him and he say’s little David is–”

“I don’t give a tinker’s damn what Robbie has said,” he interrupted harshly and then seeing her flinch, politely added, “Please, just do as I ask.”

Snapping her mouth closed, she did as he commanded. She stepped a few feet farther away from him and set the carrier down on the grass in the sunshine. Ignoring the far too curious looks of the two women sitting nearby, she knelt beside it and moved the handle out of the way. She removed the baby blue blanket from around David and gently pulled back the sleeve of his blue onesie. He squirmed and opened his eyes briefly, but then he stilled and went back to sleep.

Develyn folded and slipped his glasses into the inner pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small crystal bottle. Unscrewing its silver cap, he held it out to her. “Now take this and place a droplet on the back of his hand.”

Emily stared at the bottle she knew held holy water, but didn’t move to take it. With another nervous glance around, she shook her head and as quietly as possible, said, “That’s not necessary either. David was baptized weeks ago.”

Develyn wasn’t leaving there until he was sure the babe was a Natural Mortal. Completely and totally human. In three angry strides, he crossed to her and in a clipped British tone, ordered her to do it.

Seething, she reached up and snatched the bottle from his cold fingers. She wet her forefinger and handed it back to Develyn before placing a drop of water on David’s little curled up hand.

If it were possible to hold his breath, Develyn would have. Instead, he kept his hands, clenched nervously, hidden in his coat pockets. He watched for a sign that the babe felt discomfort or a blister to form, but nothing happened. David didn’t move or cry.

After a few tense-filled minutes, Develyn, his relief apparent, softly proclaimed, “He’s a Natural Mortal. Completely human.”

“Yes,” Emily snapped. “Just as I told you,” she muttered as she tugged David’s sleeve back down. “And now that you’ve seen him,” she said, tucking the blanket back around him, “and I’ve performed your little tests, we’re leaving,” she said as she stood with the carrier.

Develyn reached out to stop her, but dropped his hand and said, “No, wait, please.”

Emily stopped and pivoted on him, her blue eyes narrowing. “No! I’ve done everything you’ve asked and we’re done here! Now, j, just, leave us alone,” she stuttered hotly.

“But there is something I must tell you.”

“What!?” she demanded, taking a bold step toward him and meeting his eyes. “What could you,” she began, jabbing her forefinger at him, “possibly have to say that I,” she said thumbing toward herself, “would want to hear?”

Again, her words felt like a well aimed thrust of a sword, but he was no longer in the mood to parry. He was beginning to feel the effects of the searing sun and his resolve went up in smoke.

His hand snaked out and grabbed her arm and his dark eyes narrowed angrily as he glared down at her. “It is not a question of whether or not you want to hear what I have to say, my dear, for it is something you must hear. However,” he said through a clenched jaw, “this is not the time nor the place to discuss it. Nor am I asking your permission. I am telling you. I will be at your home at seven o’clock this evening. Do not try to run. Do not make me search for you. Be there,” he said, his tone promising more pain if she was foolish enough to disobey him.

Develyn’s fingers bit coldly into her arm, but Emily refused to cry out or look away from his glowering face. Blinking back the tears that sprang to her eyes, she nodded. “Fine,” she gasped. “I’ll be there.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Benny’s Break

Benny slipped on his dark, silver framed shades, pulled on his Chicago Cubs baseball cap and stood the collar of his navy blue pea coat up around his ears. All in order to shield himself against the midday sun as he was on his way to the courthouse to have lunch with Ione.

He left the hospital and as he cut across the parking lot, his mind turned to Emily. He was worried about her. He rang her the night before, like any good friend would do, but Robert was screening her calls and wouldn’t let him through. And although he had been ready to throttle the old man, he was glad Emily had such diligent and loyal friend watching over her and her son.

When he spoke with her that morning, she had sounded exhausted and quite out-of-sorts and Benny had a feeling he knew why. Surely Develyn, by now, had made his demand to see his nephew and Benny wished there was some way he could help her. Some way that wouldn’t get him killed in the process.

As he came around the corner of the Jones Funeral Home, Benny couldn’t believe his luck. Across the street, he saw Emily’s car and Robert leaning against it and he knew she couldn’t be far away. Waiting for a gold Prius to pass, he crossed and as he jumped up onto the curb, he spotted her. She had little David in his carrier, and they were across the lawn speaking to, lo and behold, Develyn himself and Benny knew he must have stumbled upon the meeting.

Pretending he hadn’t already seen her, couldn’t hear her voice above all others or smell her scent wafting on the breeze, he called out, “Hey, Dude! What’re you doing here? Where’s Emily?” As he pretended to look around earnestly, he said, “Oh, there she is. Who’s that with her?”

Robert’s eyebrows drew together. His eyes darted between Benny’s face and the couple he was talking about, “Oh, you know damn well who that” he said with a jab of his chin, “tis. All you vampires know each other. Especially those of the same Order.”

The dumbstruck look on Benny’s face was priceless and Robert chuckled heartily before continuing, “You vampires are’n arrogant bunch. Just because you’re stronger an’ faster than us Naturals, you automatically assume you’re smarter too. Well, I served a vampire for over thirty-five years, do ya honestly think I would’na know one when see or smell one.”

Benny’s mouth dropped open and he shook his head numbly. He was stunned. Speechless. The last year, the whole charade, had been for naught! Forced to accept a position that was far beneath his considerable surgical skills. The necessity of a daytime work shift and life schedule. Constantly slathering himself with that cursed tanning cream that stained everything it came into contact with– and dousing himself with cologne. And worst of all, forcing food down his gullet whenever in Emily’s presence. All to appear Natural. All to gain her trust and friendship. All had been for nothing! The jig was up! he thought angrily.

Yanking his shades off, he winced painfully against the sun, “Bloody, damn! Does Emily know as well,” he asked, slipping into his natural British accent.

With another chuckle, Robert shook his head and said, “No. I don’t think she suspects a thing, but you do know who that tis over there, don’t cha?”

Benny shrugged and with a grim smile, admitted, “Yes, of course. That is Develyn Blackwell, David’s twin brother.”

Robert nodded absently. “And do you know why he’s come here, to Dixon?”

Again Benny shrugged and smiled uncomfortably. “Well, he has said–”

Robert’s arms dropped and he straightened defensively. His eyes darted to Develyn and back to Benny’s face. “So, you two have spoken? Just when would that’a been?” he demanded in an increasingly Irish tone.

Benny dropped his eyes to his shoes and when he met Robert’s reddening face again, he confessed. “Yes, but only briefly. Yesterday, before the picnic.”

The thought that Develyn had jumped poor Emily, frightening her half to her grave, had enraged him. Spitting a curse, Robert jabbed his finger at Benny. “So you knew he would be lyin’ in wait for her and would drag her off into the woods, like the damned animal he is, and Mark her?”

Benny flinched at Robert’s cruel words. If they weren’t true, if he hadn’t entertained that very thought himself, he would have taken offense, but instead Benny merely nodded morosely. He put his shades back on and slipped his hands into his pockets. “I suspected Develyn might, to reconnect with her, but even so, I could not have intervened. Surely you understand this; having served a vampire for so long.”

Shaking his head disgustedly, Robert snorted like an angry bull. Although he understood why Develyn had done it, he was angry that he hadn’t gone about it in a more civilized manner. It could have been done. Emily deserved better. And he also understood why Benny could not have stopped it. He knew exactly what happened to any vampire who dared to interfere between a Marked Natural and its protecting vampire.

They we’re killed. Immediately. Without a second thought or given a second chance. First, both hands were lopped off and they were beheaded before the final blow, a blade to the heart, was delivered by the protecting vampire. It was a horrible way to die, vampire or not, and Robert shivered at the thought.

“Just how, exactly, did ya come to know him? And how well do ya know him now,” he demanded gently.

Benny knew the story of Robert and Laura Ann and so he understood the old man’s hate for Develyn, but he didn’t have time to entertain any more of his questions. He could hear Emily and Develyn’s exchange heating up and he feared for her safety. “It’s rather a long story. One, I will gladly share at another time, but for now, please excuse me.”

As he turned to go, Robert reached out and grabbed his arm, not surprised he felt the ice cold through his coat. “What in God’s name are ya doin?”

“I’m going over there. Emily needs me.”

Robert snorted with disbelief. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary! And do what, exactly? Dinna ya just say you know you canna interfere.”

“Yes, but–”

“But nuthin’. Don’t go over there. ”

Benny could hear Develyn as he threatened her and his every muscle in his body tightened instinctively. He yanked his arm free and turned to go.

Robert liked Benny, he reminded him a lot of David and he didn’t want to see him get hurt, much less killed, and he reached out and grabbed his arm again, gently saying, “Don’t, Benny. Now, isn’t the time to act.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Stormy Weather, Stormier Thoughts

**************

Benny

Benny watched as the lightning flashed, momentarily illuminating the cloudy night sky. Following shortly, a loud rumble of thunder rattled the tall windows before him. Reaching one arm up, he leaned his forearm against the cold plane of glass and dropped his chin. He watched the rain steadily pelt the water below as his mind replayed the events of the last twenty four hours.

Emily’s nightmare had resumed. Develyn was back and, clearly, it was not for the reason he had told him. He had lied. Develyn had already re-Marked Emily and had seen the child today, so why meet with her again? What did Develyn hope to accomplish? What was Develyn really up to?

More important, what could he hope to do about it. Benny knew there wasn’t a thing he could do to help her. Not as her Natural Mortal friend, anyway. But what if he told her the truth about himself and offered his help?

Wrapped in a black silk bed sheet, her long hair streaming down her back and a silver cross dangling on a long chain between her breasts, Ione sat on the sleek Swedish-styled sofa of ivory leather and watched Benny. He wore only jeans and his pale torso was barely visible in the dark, but when lightning lit up the room, she could see him clearly. And when she saw his head hung hopelessly, her heart ached for him. Her vampire, her lover, her love was angry and frustrated. He could no longer protect the woman he loved, and it was killing him.

Ione knew something was seriously wrong with him the moment he had arrived for lunch. He was simmering with barely concealed rage and by the time they reached his boathouse, he was openly enraged. He ranted that the farce was over and he would no longer attempt to appear as a Natural Mortal, and all that it entailed. He had asked her to help scrub the tanning cream from his body, and after their shower, he had fed from her ferociously and had taken her body fiercely. Repeatedly.

The storm was building and with a blinding flash and loud crash of thunder, a knock came from the door.

Benny knew who it was. Although he was surprised that Develyn hadn’t shown up the night before, after the foolish stunt he had pulled in the park.

Without turning, he told Ione to wait in the bedroom while he saw to his guest and she stood, clutching the sheet about herself, and hurried off.

After another incessant rapping sounded, Benny called out for Develyn to come in. The door crashed open and when he turned, Develyn, again looking like the Angel of Death, appeared at the top of the stairs.

As lightning flashes lit up the room, the men’s eyes met. Brown clashing with blue. Their stances widened and like two great wolves prepared to battle until death, their chins dropped and shoulders hunched defensively. Their jaws clenched and nostrils flared as their hands splayed, ready for attack.

Develyn smiled coldly, and just as coldly, uttered, “You were wise to listen to Robbie today.”

Benny returned an insincere smile and smartly replied, “Yes, well, it was for Emily’s benefit, I assure you. It would have been most awkward for her to have had to introduce the two of us, but I’m sure all our paths will cross again. Another time, another place. This is, after all, a small town.”

Within the next flash of lightning and accompanying thunder, Develyn was standing right before him.

With a growl, he shoved Benny back against the window, the glass pane spider webbing from the impact. “You are treading on dangerous ground, boy,” he said, his voice grating. “And I assure you, I will not be so forgiving next time,” he vowed, and then with all his might, sent Benny crashing through the glass.

Develyn watched as Benny soared a dozen yards through air and splashed down into the dark cold water below.

Hearing the shattering glass, Ione, dressed in brown pencil skirt and red satin blouse, came running from the bedroom. She flew to the window and cried out for Benny.

Develyn ordered the girl to cease her hysterics and come to him, but she, sobbing, refused and tried to run. Grabbing her by the hair, he angrily hauled her against him. “You are not Marked! You have submitted to others before and you will submit to me now.”

When the girl foolishly defied him again, Develyn pulled her head back even harder, making her scream out in pain. “Dear girl, hasn’t anyone ever told you? Never fall in love with a vampire. It brings nothing but heart ache.”

Ignoring the girl’s whimpers and tears, Develyn opened the vein in her neck with the tip of his blade and fed.

Although her blood was deliciously laced with fear, it was also heavy with herbs and tinged with an antihistamine, but at that moment, he didn’t care. It served his purpose. He would feed enough so that he was warm by the time he reached Emily’s house.

***************

Emily

Emily was freezing. Although her thick hair fell about her shoulders like a black silk cloak and she was sitting in two feet of steaming hot water, for the third time since Develyn had Marked her, she was still cold. Her muscles ached and the light hurt her eyes. Just like what had happened the first time, when David had Marked her. And even though she knew to be careful and not touch the spot where Develyn drank from her, she had relived her attack in the woods in her dreams.

Like a looped piece of video, it played all night long. She saw his handsome face and heard his voice. She felt his body, like cold hard marble at first, pressing against hers and the smell his expensive cologne choking her as he fed.

Pulling her knees to her chest, she crossed her arms over them and rested her forehead there as her heavy thoughts overwhelmed her.

Over the past year she had prayed she would never set eyes on Develyn again. She had hoped he was dead. That he had met with a really violent end somewhere by someone’s hand. But no, he was alive and well, and back in her life? But why? she thought for the thousandth time. Why had he really come back? He said he had wanted to see little David, which he had done today at the square, but that hadn’t been enough. He wanted to meet with her again and was going to be there within the hour. But why? What could he possibly have to tell her? And whose to say any of it would be the truth?

The lights flickered. A rumble of thunder rattled the window above the toilet. David’s startled squall erupted over the baby monitor sitting on the vanity counter. Hurrying out of the tub, Emily dried off quickly, jammed her feet into her fuzzy white slippers and pulled on her white terry cloth robe.

As she padded through her room, she heard David’s wailing and Robert’s rich tenor voice singing, “– Just a little ditty, in her good old Irish way, and I’d give the world if she could sing that song to me this day. Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral. Too-ra-loo-ral-li.”

Crossing the hall, Emily opened the door and saw Robert in the dim blue light of David’s moon-shaped nightlight and smiled. He was such a good man. He was everything to her, friend and confidant, body-guard, chauffeur, gardener, cook, maid and, at that particular moment, nanny. He had a burping cloth over the right shoulder of his checked shirt and he was holding David there as he paced back and forth in front of the crib and sang.

When he finished the lullaby, David was still crying earnestly. Emily recognized the steady, little fist-clutching, lung-rattling squalls of hunger and as she stepped into the room, she joked with Robert. “Don’t feel bad. It’s not that that wasn’t wonderful. It’s just that this little guy is hungry.”

Chuckling, Robert handed David over and Emily took a seat in the rocking chair. As she prepared to open her robe to feed him, Robert averted his eyes to his shoes. “While you’re feedin’ this little nipper, why don’t I go an’ start a fire, make you a cup of warm milk an’ see if we can get you warmed up at last.”

“Oh, the fire would be wonderful, but don’t waste your time with the milk. I don’t think I could drink anything at the moment,” she said, flashing him an appreciative smile.

Robert noticed her lips trembled as she smiled and his heart squeezed. My poor gurl, he thought. She was trying so hard to put on a brave face, but he could tell she was in considerable discomfort.

Emily was, what David had explained that night after their fireside talk, as an Extra Sensitive Natural. She experienced; felt, smelled, and saw things more acutely than other Marked Naturals and she was clearly still feeling the side effects of being Marked by Develyn.

Robert left to see to the fire and milk and by the time Emily finished feeding and changing David, the storm had moved in. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed over-head frequently.

Bundling David up in a fresh receiving blanket, Emily carried him to the living room where the only light came from the flames in the fireplace and a glass of warm milk awaited her on the coffee table.

Sitting down on the end of the sofa nearest the blazing fire, Emily held David against her chest and nuzzled him. She turned and looked up at David’s photo on the mantel and for the millionth time her heart lurched at the sight of his smiling handsome face.

Dropping her eyes to the fire, she studied the dancing flames, all the while shivering violently and praying for protection against the monster who was about to call on them that stormy night.

**************

Develyn

Develyn had tried to rest and recoup from his day out in the sunlight, but he couldn’t. He felt every bit of Emily’s distress and the magnitude of the information he was about to impart to her weighed heavily on his conscious and he was up, as usual, before the sun had set.

As he stood at the window in the north facing bedroom, he could see a storm was building just above the multi colored tree tops. Dark clouds were piling high and a cold breeze had picked up. He remained there until the sun set and as he drove into town it began to sprinkle.

Before meeting with Emily, Develyn needed to tend to Benny. The boy was becoming too brazen and it had to stop or else he would be forced to mete out the punishment expected by the Order.

Pulling up to the curb, he parked his car and climbed out. In a flash, he was across the old estate’s lawn where Benny rented his boathouse apartment. Develyn knew Benny knew he was there, but he knocked as a courtesy, and by the time he left, the storm was raging as violently as he was.

Peeling away from the curb, the tires spinning out on the wet leaves collected at the gutter, Develyn drove the few blocks to Emily’s house.

He parked in front of the sparkling white picket fence that encircled the front garden of her house. It was little white stone cottage trimmed in blue, with blue shutters at the windows and a blue front door that, on such a night, looked especially cozy and inviting.

From where he sat, Develyn could see through the rivulets of rain running down the passenger window, through the silver curtain of steady rain outside and through the white lace sheer on the front bay window. He saw Robbie pass by and moments later, the darkened room grew bright with flickering orange light.

Pulling out his pocket watch, Develyn read its face and saw that he still had a twenty minute wait. He moved the seat back to get more comfortable and when glanced over at the window, he saw Emily and little David enter the room. She wore a white robe and her long dark hair fell loosely about her shoulders. The babe, wrapped in a pale yellow blanket, was cradled snugly in her arms.

When she sat down, he was unable to see her face any longer, so he climbed out of the car, vaulted over the fence and went to stand at the window.

The lightning and thunder continued to battle it out in the cloudy sky above him and the rain poured down. His body was still hot from the girl’s blood and so he felt every bit of the cold, but Develyn didn’t care as he watched Emily cuddle her child against her chest.

Develyn could still read her thoughts and they were no different from before, but it was the look of despair on her beautiful face, illuminated in the flickering fire light that had cut him to the quick.

At that moment, he realized he could not bring himself to follow through with his plan. Emily had suffered enough. Not to mention, she loathed him, with every fiber of her being, and she wished him dead. It would be useless to tell his side of the story because she wouldn’t listen or believe anything he said. Rightfully so.

And how could he dare to begin to defend himself in the first place? He had committed the horrible atrocities David had told her, and a few he didn’t know about, and he was guilty of nearly everything David had accused him of.

It would not matter to her that Clarissa had committed suicide before he arrived home that night long ago. That Turning Robbie’s Laura Ann had been a horrible drug-induced mistake. Or that he was not a traitor and had served as a double agent in the Second World War. None of it would matter, because she hated him that much.

But most important, he could not tell her because he could not destroy her life in order to ease his burdened conscious. Under no circumstances should Emily ever know the truth about that fateful night a year ago . . .

That it was his Unnatural Mortal desire for her blood that had forced him to shed his clothes and wig and approach her as David. That it was in fact, him, in the shower with her. It was him, who drank from that sweet spot at her inner thigh, and once sated, his Unnatural desire quickly turning into a Natural Mortal desire for her body. That it was his hips she had wrapped her legs around. His back that she scratched her nails down. His child she had conceived that night. His child she loves now.

As he stood there watching Emily and David, Develyn felt as if every consequence of his every action of his very long existence had finally, at that very moment, caught up with him and came to roost on his shoulders. They slumped and his head hung low as the cold rain showered down on him.

CHAPTER NINE

Invite and Insight

As he stood there in the pouring rain, Develyn realized there would be no cozy fireside chat with Emily, like the one she and David had. No. Theirs would be brief. He would speak of only necessary things. Things Emily needed to know that will help her move on. Let her and her son, their son, live the rest of their lives in peace in this quiet little town. And once they were told, he would walk away and finally finish what had all started the moment he spotted Valaree Von Wahran in that London pub in 1892.

With resolve, Develyn straightened and strode to the front porch. Once out of the rain, he combed his fingers through his soaking hair and crossed to the door, pounding soundly on it. After a few moments, he knocked again and when porch light overhead turned on, he winced against the bright light and angrily demanded that he turn it off.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw Robert peering at him from around the door. “You’re early,” he snapped. “And,” he continued, his blue eyes narrowing with unconcealed contempt, “Miss Emily isn’t dressed to be receivin’ guests just yet.”

Used to his hostility, Develyn greeted him with a mocking bow and the usual degree of sarcasm. “Well, good evening, to you too, Robbie. Tell Emily she needn’t change on my account. I will not be staying long.”

Robbie harrumphed as he gave him a once over. “You’re wet,” he snapped again.

Develyn was well aware that water was dripping from his coat and hair and he flashed an indulging smile. “Yes, well, that is usually what happens to one while out in the rain. Why don’t you run and fetch me a towel and I will be sure to remove my coat when you invite me in,” he said in a way that was clearly an order.

Robert stiffened visibly. He reluctantly opened the door, spoke the necessary words and let Develyn pass. “You can hang your coat there,” he said pointing to the antique oak coat rack just inside the doorway. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

As Develyn dipped his chin in agreement, drops fell from his hair and trickled down his neck. It felt uncomfortably cold on his still warm flesh and goose-flesh peppered his body. Removing his soaked coat, he draped it over top of the rack and lifted his wet shirt collar away from his skin.

Turning, he saw that the room before him, now flooded with light, reflected Emily well. Like her, it had strong traditional elements, with just a touch of the contemporary, but mostly it was soft and feminine. Warm and inviting.

The walls were painted in a rich tan, like the color of the sand on a tropical beach, with warm ivory crown moldings and wide baseboards. The low ceiling was painted a light blue, like the sky on a hazy summer day, and the floor was aged warm walnut planks in varying widths. To his right, flanking the bay window seat, there were twin, floor-to-ceiling built-in book shelves. Each were loaded with hundreds of books and a handful of family photographs.

Her sofa and oversized armchair were overstuffed pieces upholstered in plain, soft taupe chenille and were accented by striped and floral pillows in shades of red, blue, green and white. An old steamer trunk served as her coffee table and on the two end tables, stood crystal based lamps with squared, bell shaped shades in ivory fabric that were currently glaring with white light. All the pieces were arranged traditionally on a brick red colored area rug in the center of the room.

The fireplace was on the far wall. It was built in a simple craftsman style, constructed of walnut wood and a natural limestone hearth. An oval, beveled edged mirror hung in the center of the three foot tall overmantel and the four foot long mantel was artfully cluttered with feminine bric-a-brac. A large letter P, painted in a red distressed finish, stood amongst wooden and silver candlesticks with white candles, and more family photographs, with one, front and center, of David.

Before he realized it, Develyn found himself across the room, standing before the fire, staring at the picture. In it, David’s eyes were partially closed. His lips were pulled back in a wide smile and his mouth was slightly parted, as if the photo was taken while he was laughing. His brother laughing. God, what he would have given to have heard it! Closing his eyes, he tried to recall the sound of it, but at that moment, he couldn’t and despite the heat of the flames, he shivered.

From behind he heard a gasp. “Blast it!” Robert cried hotly. “I told ya to wait over there. You’re drippin’ all over her floor.”

Turning, Develyn faced him and crossed his arms over his chest. “Easy Robbie, it’s only a little water. It’ll dry in no time,” he snapped.

At the same time both men realized when and where he had said those near exact words before and they both stiffened at the memory.

With a curse and a twitching mustache, Robert muttered under his breath and threw Develyn a white towel.

Unfurling it with a snap, Develyn glared at him. “Thank you. Oh, and do turn the lamps back off, would ya, old man?” he said, knowing full well Robbie had turn them on just to be spiteful.

Clearly resenting being ordered about in Emily’s house, Robert mumbled a curse under his breath, but turned them off before he collected the untouched glass of milk from the table and took it back to the kitchen.

When Develyn was finished, he tossed the towel over the sofa arm and combed his fingers through his damp hair. Turning back to the mantel, he studied the photographs.

All the snapshots were of typical milestones acknowledged by Naturals and in each, Emily was smiling. A brilliant smile that lit up her beautiful face and shone in her stunning blue eyes as she stared into the camera. In one, a younger Emily was standing between her parents at her high-school graduation. In another, she standing next to her Cousin Erin and Chad at their wedding. In another, she again was standing with her parents and the rest of her family as they encircled her Aunt Mere and Uncle Steven at their 35th wedding anniversary celebration. And in the last, she was holding their son while standing before a beautiful stained-glass window of a sanctuary. In it, her smile just as radiant as in the others, but sadly, missing from her eyes.

A loud hiss erupted from behind him and when he turned, he saw a large, long-haired white cat with enormous blue eyes. Its back was arched highly and its tail was sticking straight up. Awkwardly, it backed away from him and then ran from the room.

As soon as it disappeared from view, Emily, cradling little David in her arms, entered. She had dressed in jeans and a black turtleneck, but still wore her robe over them. Her face was pale and drawn. Her brow was furrowed and her usually full lips were pressed thinly together.

When their eyes met, Emily’s steps faltered, but with a steadying breath, she continued. She rounded the end of the sofa farthest from him and took a set in the chair. Raising her eyes to his, she softly demanded, “Well, what is it that you wanted to tell me, Develyn?”

For a moment, Develyn stood frozen. His heart was pounding madly, his stomach churned sickly, and his hands were sweating profusely. He had forgotten how strong the connection between a Marked Natural and its vampire could be at times. Especially when the Natural was an extra sensitive, like Emily. He was feeling all her emotions, but it was her thoughts, of hate and resentment toward him, roaring in his head that was rendering him completely incapacitated. He couldn’t think clearly, let alone speak. He had to close her mind from his. He had to break that mental bond with her again.

And with a moment’s hesitation, he did it.

As his mind cleared and the physical symptoms dissipated, he was in full control. Clasping his hands behind his back, he bowed dramatically before addressing her. “If you do not mind, my dear, I would rather we were alone for this little discussion of ours.”

Robert had returned from the kitchen and now stood behind her. He patted her shoulder gently before narrowing his eyes on Develyn, and through clenched teeth said, “Ah, stop toyin’ with her, you cold-hearted bastard! Just say what’ve ya come to say and leave her be!”

Develyn stiffened. His fists clenched behind his back. His blood boiled in his veins. The old man had been a thorn in his side for decades, but when David was alive, there had been, for his sake, a certain degree of mutual civility between them. However, now that David was gone, clearly Robbie didn’t feel the need to keep up with the pretense, not even for Emily’s sake. But then again, both he and Emily hated him equally, so they probably figured why pretend otherwise.

Resisting the urge to snap Robbie’s neck, Develyn relented one final time for Emily’s sake.

Dropping his arms to his sides, he forced a smile and turned his attention to her saying, “As you wish, then.”

After a moment, he sighed and began to speak. “That morning, Emily, you had asked me why you and I had tried to explain myself, but you were in such a state, really no condition to–”

“No!” Emily gasped when she realized where Develyn was headed. She didn’t want to relive the most horrible moments of her life. Not again. And especially not in front of him.

As hysteria rose in her chest, she rose to her feet and David, sensing her agitation, stirred and began to cry. “No,” she repeated with a frantic shake of her head. “I don’t want to hear this! Any of it,” she cried over him.

The sound of his son crying struck an unfamiliar, yet instinctual cord with Develyn. He wanted to go to him and hold and comfort him as a father should, but he knew he couldn’t. Although he was still plenty warm from the girl’s blood and he desperately wanted to hold his son, just once, he knew it would be easier to walk away if he didn’t.

Quickly becoming frustrated, he ran his hand over his face and back through his hair. “It is not a matter of wanting to hear it, Emily,” he began tensely, “but rather something you must learn and come to understand.”

Tears sprang to hers and she shook her head again.

“Damn it, woman!” he roared, planting his hands on his hips. “Just listen to me a moment!”

Develyn’s raised voice startled David and the baby began screaming at the top of his lungs.

Scowling at Develyn, Robert came around the chair and stepped protectively in front of Emily. “Lower yer damn voice,” he grated, “or don’t’cha care your scarin’ your poor little nephew.”

For the briefest of moments, Develyn thought about telling them the truth about the baby. That little David was not his nephew, but rather, his son! That because his daily routine and regular feedings from Willings, his system worked more naturally than David’s and it was he, and not David, that had fathered Emily’s child that night. But no! He had already decided he could not reveal that secret. He could not destroy her like that. It was best that she believe little David was the son of the good one. The Saintly one.

With a nod, Develyn raised his hands apologetically.

Emily tried to shush and comfort David, but in her current state, it didn’t work and he continued to fuss and cry.

Robert suggested that he take the baby into the next room and as they left, Develyn’s eyes followed David desperately. Committing the last image of his son, with his face red and puckered angrily and his little mouth opened wide, emitting the loudest of wails, to memory.

CHAPTER TEN

Develyn’s Tale

Within moments, the sound of the crying was muffled with the closing of a door. Now that they were alone, Develyn looked back to Emily and as he watched her pace anxiously, he regretted losing his temper. “Emily, please,” he began gently, “sit down and listen to me. Since I’m sure David told you most of our history, my side of the tale is a simple one. One that won’t take long to recount. If you would allow me a just few moments of your time, I’ll say my piece and leave.”

Emily stopped her pacing and studied him skeptically for a moment. Again, she knew she really didn’t have a choice in the matter and she wished he stopped acting as if she did. Clutching the collar of her robe closed, she went to the chair and perched herself on the edge. Her woefully wide eyes met his briefly, before turning toward window and blinking against a flash of lightning.

Develyn wanted to demand her attention, but decided it was probably for the best. Given the nature of the things he was about to impart, it would certainly be easier for him if she wasn’t glaring at him.

Turning his back to her, he stared into the flames. Crossing his arms over his chest, he took a deep breath and began to speak. “I’m sure it comes as no surprise that, even as boy, David was good. Through and through. After our parents’ deaths, we three children were sent to live with wealthy relatives in London. That first week’s end there was to be a grand garden party, one to show us poor orphaned children off to our aunt and uncle’s friends, as if we were new stock in their stables,” he said, sounding unmistakably bitter.

“However, the night before the party, I snuck outside and yes, merely out spite, I cut every rose bloom from its stem. When I boasted to David about it, he was, of course, horrified and went to Auntie Gemma and confessed that it was he who had committed the heinous act that had left the poor Gardner overcome that morning. That day David took twenty lashes from the Head Groomsman’s strap for me. And it was that day I realized he was the good one and I, the evil . . . ” His voice trailed off, and for a moment, the faint sounds of David’s crying and thunder overhead filled the silence.

With a clearing of his throat, he continued, “There would be many times after when David, unable to dissuade me from my course of destruction, would intervene on my behalf. And how did repay him for all his selfless sacrifices? Well, to make a long story, short,” he began, looking up at the photo of David on the mantel. “I Turned him into a hideous creature he despised being. All because of my treachery, my stupidity, my cowardice, I condemned my brother to a hellish existence from which he endured for over a century! One from which he could never escape. Not on his own that is,” he said, again slipping into silence and dropping his eyes back to the flames.

“We were apart for many years because we both hated me for what I had done, but once we reconciled, I began searching for the one that would set him free. And that, unfortunately my dear, is where you came in,” he said, pausing momentarily.

“The first time I saw you was in a photograph on your friend’s MySpace page. Your beauty was undeniable, but I needed to know what kind of person you were and so I contacted her and inquired. Suffice it to say, Cara Wagner was no friend of yours. She was jealous of you. Of your beauty and your genuine gentle nature. And she did not hesitate to divulge everything you had innocently shared with her, to me. She told me all about your family, your friends, your work, your life even the ugly details of your ex-husband’s infidelities with his secretary. And although I am certain she would have gladly done it for a fraction of the cost, I offered her five thousand dollars to ensure you arrived at The Gathering that night,” he admitted, hating the sound of her outraged gasp.

“I am sorry, my dear,” he was quick to add, “but after learning all I had about you, I knew you were the one. I knew there would be a connection, more than mere love at-first-sight, between you and David. The immediate and strong connection between the two of you would be something rare. Something that would simply defy rhyme or reason. I knew you would recognize the goodness in him, and he, in you. And like two halves of one soul finally finding each other, there would be no keeping you apart. I had counted on it.”

His breath caught and for several moments he was silent. When he spoke again, his voice thick and it came out hoarsely. “So you see, my dear, you were an important means to a more important end.”

‘A necessary end that had to come to pass before I was free to kill Valaree Von Wahran.’ he wanted to add.

Develyn wished he could explain that once David was at peace, he went after Valaree, just as he had vowed to do long ago. He had spent the last year chasing the devil’s whore around the globe and when he finally caught up with her, it was she, who had seen in a vision that Emily had a child. His child.

At first, he had thought it was Valaree’s pathetic attempt to spare her life, but it hadn’t worked. It merely delayed her death.

***************

Valaree licked the blood from her split lip, courtesy of Develyn’s fist, just before it healed and disappeared. With an ugly smirk that twisted her beautiful face, she said, “So I see violence against vomen no longer sickens you. Good for you, dear.”

Develyn sat straddling her hips, his shins unnecessarily pinning her paralyzed arms to the floor. Her long red hair billowed about her head and the sleeve of her white blouse had torn away from the shoulder during their scuffle. “Oh, no, it still does, just not when it comes to you. In fact,” he said, producing the dagger from behind his back. “I’ve enjoyed causing you every bit of pain I have tonight and I do so look forward to killing you.”

Her green eyes flashed angrily and her nostrils flared. “But vhat about little Benjamin? You vere so concerned vith him vonce, vhat about his soul? If you kill me, you know vhat vill happen to him.”

It was Develyn’s turn to smirk. “Something tells me that he and the others are going to be just fine. You see, I do believe you’ve been lying to all of us all these years. I believe when I plunge this dagger into your heart,” he began, pressing the tip into her chest just enough to produce a puddle of blood, “you will burst into a flame and die a horrible screaming death befitting the likes of you, but nothing will happen to the rest of us.”

Her eyes flickered with fear, but she bravely countered, “If you believe that, then vhy did you vait until David was dead to come for me.”

Develyn shrugged nonchalantly. “Just to be sure. But now that he is gone and I no longer care what happens to me, there is no reason to wait another moment, is there?” he said, positioning himself to sink the blade in.

Her eyes widened with terror. “Yes, there is!” she cried, “there is von tiny reason you might vant to vait. Your son,” she gushed, before he plunged the knife in. “That’s right. You have a son, Develyn. The voman you deceived and had your vay vith, she conceived your child and gave birth to him only veeks ago. Vouldn’t you like to see your son at least once before you die,” she taunted smugly.

As her words sunk in, Develyn felt as if the room began to spin. He and Emily’s one time together produced a child?! Emily had given birth to his son?! God in heaven! If this were true, then it changed everything!

Collecting himself, he sunk the dagger blade into the wooden floor beside her head and said, “Well, I suppose, I shall be making a trip to America then. However, this is not, by any means, going to spare your miserable existence, Valaree.”

At the sight of the little silver capped bottle, he produced from his inside coat pocket, Valaree began screaming. She bellowed and cursed at him in her native tongue. Her legs and arms were still paralyzed, but her head thrashed back and forth violently.

Grabbing her face, Develyn squeezed her cheeks hard, forcing her jaw open and poured the holy water between her lips.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Deja’ vu and Redemption

Emily didn’t want to hear one word Develyn had to say, but the moment he started speaking, the painfully familiar tone and manner of his speech drew her attention. And when she looked him, a dark silhouette against the orange flames, she was struck with a sense of deja’ vu.

Although Develyn related his story quickly, matter-of-factly, without any real inflection, she could see his face, illuminated by the flames and reflected clearly in the mirror above the fireplace. And for the first time she saw Develyn Blackwell for what he really was. Not a cold, selfish, evil monster, but a guilt-ridden, grief-stricken, repentant man.

As he was speaking his face twisted with emotion. At times, his lips pressed together in anger, his eyes closed in shame or his brow furrowed with grief. It was clear to her that Develyn had blamed himself for his brother’s fate and spent over a century desperately trying to make it right the only way he knew how. The only way the Curse allowed.

Tears filled Emily’s eyes as David’s face appeared in her mind and his voice sounded in her head. “My humanity is the very reason why I lament what I once was and despise what I have become. The actual curse she spoke over them was that they could not, lest they send their souls straight to hell, end their tormented existence themselves. Nor could it be done by a stranger. You see, the bitter twist of it was, it had to be done by the one who really loved them. You must understand, I have been cursed and there is no cure. No magical potion to concoct and drink it away. No ancient ritual to perform to change it. There is only one way out of this existence of mine and it is as I have already explained it. I would outlive you and be forced to live without you for centuries! And that, is something I cannot, I will not endure.”

The sob that had been building in her throat finally erupted and Emily began to cry. Only this time it wasn’t for her son or herself. This time it was for Develyn. He was David’s brother. His twin, for God’s sake! They had shared a womb. The same blood flowed through their veins. The face Develyn saw whenever he looked into a mirror, was his brother’s. Of course he loved his brother! She had known and loved David for only a brief amount of time, the equivalent to less than a single day! But Develyn had known and loved him longer than a natural lifetime. How could she have been so stupid, so selfish, so arrogant to believe she was the only one who loved David?! The only one who grieved his death.

In an instant, all the times Emily had wished Develyn dead, prayed for his death, or imagined killing him herself, washed over her like cold dark waves of an angry sea and Emily felt sick to her stomach. How could she have harbored such evil in her heart? God forgive her. She had been wrong in doing so. Wrong for hating Develyn for doing the only thing that delivered David, the love of her live, his brother, from his suffering.

Develyn heard Emily begin to sob and it was like a knife to his heart. He wished he could pull her into his arms and apologize for all the misery he had caused her, but he knew it would be in vain. Emily didn’t want to hear his voice, let alone, feel his touch, and so all he could was comfort her the only way he knew how.

With considerable effort, he swallowed the lump in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that threatened him. With practiced flippancy, he said, “Do take heart, my dear. After this night, I promise, I shall never darken your door again.”

Emily knew Develyn was only saying what he thought she wanted to hear. What was supposed to be some kind of comfort to her, but it made her feel even more ashamed and physically ill. Fighting back nausea, she hugged herself and sobbed brokenly, “I, I’m so sorry, Develyn. For, for everything.”

Shocked, his eyes snapped open and he spun around to face her. She didn’t need to be Marked for him to read her mind. The pity on her face was plain to see and it infuriated him. He would rather have Emily’s hate. He needed it. He had to have it in order to walk away and finish what he started.

Storming up to her, he reached out and pulled her to her feet. “Do not feel sorry for me,” he rasped as he stared down into her beautiful tear-filled eyes. “Save your tears for one who has the slightest chance at redemption, but do,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close against him, “give a kiss to one who is surely damned.”

Develyn lowered his head and as his mouth hovered over hers, he whispered, “Just one, my dear, before I go.”

Softly, he pressed his cool lips against her trembling ones. Not in a demanding way, just gently. Sweetly. Reveling in the momentary intimate contact, as himself, for the first and last time with the woman he loved.

Before Emily had a chance to react, before he would have to see the look of revulsion that was surely on her face now, Develyn released her. And with a hastily whispered, “Good-bye, Emily.” He was gone.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Death Comes Calling

As Develyn crossed the porch, he pulled on his coat. With a final glance back at her door, he started down the stairs.

The storm had moved on and it was only sprinkling lightly now. He had taken a few steps down the walk that was blanketed with wet leaves brought down by the heavy rain, before he felt a presence and smelled their scent. He recognized it as someone from the Order. His hackles rose and he stopped dead in his tracks.

At the end of the walk he saw a man materialize from the dark. He was tall, taller than him by a few inches and wider by a few more. He had short cropped black hair, full black eyebrows, a thin black mustache and a short pointed black beard. He wore a long black cape fastened together at the collar by a large silver button.

“Vhere is she, Develyn?” the man demanded in a deep voice that was as commanding as his appearance.

Slowly and deliberately, Develyn pulled the cross-handled dagger from inside his coat pocket. Clenching it tightly in his fist, he turned his body sideways, taking a defensive stance. “Your very presence here, sir, at her home tells me you already know damn well where Emily is.”

As if he were not at all intimidated by Develyn’s bravado, the man’s eyebrows rose haughtily. “Do forgive me,” he began, his Russian accent becoming more pronounced as he spoke, “for not making myself clear. I am not referring to the voman inside. I seek Countess Valaree Von Vahran.”

Fear, the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since David’s Turning, squeezed his still barely-beating heart painfully and twisted his guts. The man’s words evoked unpleasant thoughts that involved Emily and little David being hurt, killed, or worse, being Turned. His shoulders hunched defensively and every muscle in his body tensed. “Make your self and your intentions known, sir!” Develyn growled at the man.

The man opened his cape with great flourish, revealing its white silk lining and what he wore beneath it. He was dressed in a manner from a time long past in black tight fitting breeches, tall black Hessian boots, a stark white shirt and an emerald and silver brocade vest. Lifting the silver handled walking stick in his hand, he saluted him and replied, “I am Count Konrad Von Vahran and I demand to know the vhereabouts of my vife!”

Develyn felt the last of his breath leave his body. Count Konrad?! No one had seen or heard of him in over 200 years! How the hell did he know what he had done to Valaree? No one of the Order knew what he had been up to for the past year. For if they had, someone would have surely tried to stop him before now.

The Count squared his shoulders and answered the questions running through Develyn’s mind, testily. “Since you have put her into a deep sleep, her mind has been freed and she calls to me. She does not know vhere she is, but she knows who is responsible for putting her there. And that is you, Develyn Blackwell, is it not?”

With a disdainful snort, Develyn taunted him. “That’s right,” he began with a curt nod of his head. “And you want to know where she is? Well, sir, your wife, that evil bitch,” he began spitting contemptuously on the ground, “is deep in a grave. Waiting for me to dig her up and plunge this dagger,” he said, waggling it at him, “hilt-deep into her cold black heart.”

From behind him, Develyn heard “Jesus, Joseph and Mary!” and he muttered a curse of his own.

Obviously Robbie, the old busy body, had heard their raised voices and came to investigate. His unexpected presence was just enough of a distraction that Develyn couldn’t react fast enough to the count’s attack.

Within a blink of an eye, Count Konrad was standing in front of him. His pale face was an indiscernible mask. His piercing green eyes bore into his. The tip of the hidden rapier from his walking stick piercing into the flesh directly over his heart. “Drop your veapon,” he ordered and when it clattered to the sidewalk, he coldly murmured, “Make no mistake, you vill die here tonight, Develyn Blackwell, but no von else must. Or,” he said, his left eyebrow arching haughtily, “am I to assume your desire for vengeance far outveighs your love for your voman and son?”

Develyn’s life, the series of tragedies it really was, flashed through his mind and he was not at all surprised that death had come for him at that moment or in the manner in which it had. It was his fate and he accepted it, but was his to face alone. He would not to allow Emily and David, or even Robbie, to be claimed as well.

Calmly, Count Konrad pressed the tip further into his flesh and Develyn grunted in pain. “Tell me vhere Valaree is or I vill kill the old man there, Turn your voman and take your son for my own.”

The count’s words struck terror in him and Develyn had no other option than what presented itself. He pressed forward, sinking the blade in a little further. With a grimace, he rasped, “Give me your word, Count Konrad, here and now, that you will not harm them. Any one of them. Ever. Or I shall end my existence myself without telling you a damn thing and your wife, will spend eternity growing mad right where she lies.”

Hostility and confusion flickered in the Count’s eyes and his upper lip twitched, but he calmly replied, “All right. You have it. Provided you tell me the truth, no harm vill come to them. Ever.”

Develyn nodded his consent and without breaking eye contact with the count, he roared over his shoulder. “Get back inside, Robbie! And don’t open the door. No matter what you hear.”

**************

Robert went back inside as Develyn ordered and slammed the door. Locking it, he leaned wearily against it as his mind and heart raced at what he had overheard.

Count Konrad Von Wahran here?! Develyn kid-napped Valaree Von Wahran?! Planned to kill her?! But what about the others in the Order?! What about poor Benny?! If he and the others of the Order ever found out what Develyn was planning, Emily and David would be in serious danger! They would stop at nothing to prevent Valaree’s destruction. If she died. They all died. Jesus, Joseph and Mary was right! He had to warn Emily!

Shoving himself away from the door, Robert hurried down the hall. As he neared David’s room, his left arm went numb. His vision went black and he staggered. Slamming up against the wall, he slid slowly down it.

Still shaken by Develyn’s tale and even more so by the kiss he had given her, Emily had fled to her son’s room to hold him close and gather her wits. When she heard a loud thump from the hallway, she laid him back in his crib and hurried out of the room where she found Robert slumped against the wall. His eyes were closed. His face coated with sweat. His mouth hung open and she could see his lower lip was blue. Heart attack.

“Robert!” she cried, rushing to him. “Oh, God Robert! You’re having a heart attack. I have to get you an aspirin and call for an ambulance. Just, just stay calm. I’ll be right back,” she assured him frantically.

His eyes fluttered open. “No, gurl, just listen to me,” he whispered weakly. “Count Conrad’s outside. Don’t let ‘em in. Develyn kid-napped Valaree and he’s going to kill her, but no one must know. You’re not safe if any one of the Order finds out. David’s not safe. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t tell Benny.”

Assuming Robert was disoriented from the lack of oxygen and just rambling, Emily’s nodded. “Okay, okay, I won’t tell anyone, not even Benny,” she promised absently before she ran off to call 911.

When Emily returned with the aspirin, she found Robert laying motionless on the floor.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Was It a Dream?

Emily awoke to the sound of her own voice crying out. With a gasp, she sat up. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around the living room in the weak morning light. She listened to see if she had awakened David with her scream, but the only sound she heard was her own labored breathing.

Her breasts ached. They were swollen and full and figuring David would be up and wanting his feeding soon anyway, she threw back the red chenille blanket and swung her legs to the floor. With a yawn, she stood and jammed her feet into her slippers. Fixing her robe, she shuffled down the hallway past Robert’s room to David’s. When she opened the door, her eyes bulged and she screamed at the top of her lungs.

David was gone!

Everything was gone! His crib! The changing table. The dresser! Her mother’s rocking chair! Everything was gone! A tall box stood in one corner and an old rolled up rug in another. The walls were yellow and the floor was bare hardwood, just as it was before she turned it into David’s nursery.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her vision blurred and then blackened momentarily and she gripped the door knob to keep from crumpling to the floor. What was happening?! Dear God, what was happening?! her mind cried.

After a moment, panic began to take over the shock. She ran to Robert’s room and found it as it was before it became his bedroom, her work station was set up in the middle of the floor.

With a frightened whimper, she ran to her bedroom. Reaching her hand between the two mattresses, she frantically felt around for her journal, but it was gone too. As were the photos of David and the baby photo of their son, little David, from her bedside table.

The faint tones of Fur Elise came from the living room and she ran out of the room and down the hall. She grabbed her purse from the coffee table and flipped it upside down, dumping everything out.

With trepidation, she picked up the phone. Across the bottom of the lit screen it read Fri, Nov 9 2007 4:27PM.

Friday, November 9 2007?! 4:27PM?!

Looking up, the light outside, the slant and hues of a rising sun changed to those of a setting sun right before her eyes. The photos of both Davids disappeared from book shelves across the room and as did both on the fireplace mantel beside her. Her hackles rose as her blood turned to ice in her veins.

Friday, November 9 of 2007!

That was the night she went to be with David. November 9, 2007! That was the one night they spent together. That night they conceived little David. The night before she and Develyn had killed David. The night before David had died. A year before Robert died . . . Jesus, Joseph and Mary! It was a dream! It was all, except for little David’s birth, just a horrible, vivid nightmare.

Dropping to the sofa in utter disbelief, she looked at her phone in fear and amazement. With trembling fingers, she flipped it open and with shaky hands raised it to her ear. “Hello?” she whimpered breathlessly into it.

“Emily?” came her mother’s voice. “Emily, is that you?” she demanded anxiously.

“Mom?” she replied numbly.

“Yes! Emily, what’s wrong?” she said, her voice sharpening with concern.

“N, nothing,” she rasped into it.

“Well, it doesn’t sound like nothing,” her mother countered suspiciously. “What’s going on with you? I’ve been calling you all day and when you didn’t answer your cell phone, I tried you at work. But they said you went home early. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You haven’t been yourself lately. Ever since that silly Halloween party last week. Did you take something while you were there? Is that why you’ve been acting so strangely? Did you take some sort of drug,” she asked, her voice switching into her emergency operator tone.

Emily blinked at last. And then blinked again. “No, I didn’t take anything at the party,” she said, the haze of confusion dissipating. “Geez, Mom, I’m fine.”

“Well, you don’t sound it. Are you sure? I’m coming over there.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she repeated, gaining control by the second. “And no, don’t bother coming over.”

“And why not?” her mother asked, clearly offended.

“‘Cause I won’t be here. I, I have a date tonight.”

“A date?” she asked, her voice sounding surprised, encouraged, curious and dubious all at once. “With whom?”

“You don’t know him. He’s a guy I met at that silly party last week. His name is David Blackwell.”

**************

Emily jumped into the shower and after the shock of discovering her breasts had shrunk to their pre-pregnancy size wore off, she hurried through it. She dressed quickly in the same black dress she had chosen in her dream as well as the same boots, coat, scarf and gloves. And just like in her dream, she drove like a madwoman all the way to Chicago.

It had just begun to snow as she came to a screeching halt in front of David’s house. Slamming the car into park, she jumped out and ran up to the gates, stopping dead in her tracks at what she found.

The gates were open wide.

David was standing there waiting for her.

Just like in her dream, he wore a long black crushed velvet robe over his clothes and the snow had only begun to collect along his shoulders and in his black hair.

Emily stood in silence staring at him, her breaths coming out in puffs of mist as large flakes of snow lightly showered down on them. Her knees began to tremble and she shivered. She was afraid. Afraid that she was dreaming again and if she moved or spoke, David would disappear, just like his photos had.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she wet her dry lips and with breath held, stuttered, “W, was that all just a dream?”

As if in slow motion, David began to move. She saw his hands clench, his brow furrow and his head shake. “No, my dear, it was not a dream.”

But that didn’t make any sense! her mind screeched. How could all of that not have been a dream? Unless . . . she was dreaming now . . . this was the dream . . . Her breath came rushing out in a broken sob. Tears pooled in her eyes as her face crumpled.“Is–this–just–a-dream–then? Are–you–really–not here, David?”

He took a step toward and shook his head again. “No, this is not a dream either.”

Emily squeezed her eyes shut and tears spilled from them. “I don’t understand,” she said with a shake of her head. “What is this then? What’s happening to me?”

“Do forgive me, my dear, I was remiss. I should have explained this to you that night you came to me. You see, when Naturals are Marked, they experience all types of side effects. Some see only the past, recent and the far distant and some see only into the future. But you, Emily, my dear, you are special. You’re an Extra Sensitive. You can see both the past and the future and you experience everything far more acutely than other Marked Naturals. What you saw, what you lived through was . . . the future. One version of it, anyway. One, I will do everything in my power not to let come to pass.”

Emily’s eyes snapped open and when they met David’s, she knew nothing could keep them apart any longer. Sobbing, she flew to him and flung herself into his open arms.

After all Emily had been through, his death and her grief and guilt over it, the birth and loss of their son, Robert’s death, David knew she deserved a good cry and he tightened his hold of her. “We have a second chance, my dear. We shall start over. We will be married. We will have our son again and we will live, laugh and love for many years in this new life. I promise, my dear, my love, I promise,” he whispered as she sobbed against his shoulder.

After a few a moments, Emily’s tears stopped and her body stilled. She felt all cried out. It seems all she had done over the last year was cry, but that was over now. Like David said, they had a second chance. Their future didn’t have to end up like it had. He promised to make sure it wouldn’t. He promised many years of living, laughing and loving together and by God, that’s what she wanted! Starting now. Starting right now!

Emily’s breathing became labored and heartbeat began to pound against his chest. Her body heat rose and her woman’s scent, rushing with hormones, filled his nostrils. Setting her away from him gently, David stared down into her beautiful upturned face. Her pupils were dilated and large clouds of mist came from between her parted swollen red lips. He didn’t need to read her thoughts, to know what she was thinking.

She wanted him. As badly as he wanted her.

As Emily stared up into his face, mesmerized by the strange pale beauty of it, she was again amazed that no breath came from between his sculpted lips.

Lips she so desperately wanted to kiss.

Unwinding scarf from around her neck, she unbuttoned and opened the collar of the coat, shivering as the cold air blasted her exposed flesh.

They both knew what she was doing and this time there was no persuasion necessary on her part and no hesitation on his.

Wrapping his arm about her waist, David pulled her close. Shoving her coat off her shoulder, he sank his stryker fast and deep into the vein in her neck. Emily gasped in pain, but then smiled. She knew for them to begin their night, their new life together, it was necessary.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Reveling and Revealing

David drank just enough to make himself warm and then kissed her deeply, but only briefly before sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to the house and up to his bedroom.

Just like the first time she had been there, Emily was struck by the stark beauty of the room. She thought it suited him, a vampire from the Victorian era, perfectly.

There wasn’t a single lamp or piece of unnecessary furniture in the room. The walls were done in a cobalt and black baroque patterned wallpaper, but nothing hung on them. Multiple Persian rugs of blue, gold and black carpeted the hardwood floor. The high ceiling was painted to look like a sunny day, with only wisps of clouds throughout. A fireplace, similar, but smaller than the one in the parlor, was stationed against the left outer wall and a fire burned steadily in it. Along the wall facing the front yard, were a pair of tall narrow windows. They were dressed with heavy black brocade drapes that were tied back with black tasseled ropes allowing the bright moonlight, magnified and reflected by the snow, into the room. In the center of the floor sat a massive, high-off-the-floor, black four poster bed with squared posts that spired over eight feet and narrowed to points at the top. It was positioned as if David wanted to sleep directly under the painted sunny sky and face the fireplace. A black and silver Paisley duvet of thick velvet, draped over the bed. Multiple feather pillows encased in silver and white velvet aligned along the wide and tall headboard and crisp stark-white linens could be seen where the covers had been turned back in preparation for them.

David set Emily on her feet and as he stared down into her face, his eyebrows furrowed over his glistening dark eyes. “I have, for over a century now, wondered why God had forsaken me. Why He allowed me to be Cursed into a hellish existence and I believe I finally understand. Whether it right or wrong, I choose to believe that you, Emily, my dear, are the reason I was allowed to exist as long as I have. It was so that I may find you at last. The woman I was meant to love. The only woman I would ever love,” he murmured before lowering his lips to hers.

Reluctantly, David broke their kiss and both began frantically stripping each other of their clothing.

Sweeping her back into his arms, David carried her to his bed where this time, their first time was fierce and frantic, burning with a passion experienced only by those who knew they were blessed with a second chance.

Afterwards, as they lay side by side, allowing their breathing to calm, David turned to her and propped himself up on one elbow as he peered down at her. His dark hair was tousled in a sexy way and handsome face was flushed, but serious, as he began to speak, “I know it seems like we already have lived and loved and lost a lifetime, but I want to learn and experience everything with you first hand. All of it, my dear. I want tell you about Camille and my life before I was Turned and what it was like after, if you really want to know, and I want you to tell me about your life. What makes you happy, but only happy. I want meet your parents and your family, even your unpleasant cousin,” he said, as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I want to marry you and become part of your family. Play those board games you’re so fond of, have picnics in the park, compete in your family tournaments and win that precious potato trophy,” he said, chuckling at the absurdity of it.

“But most of all,” he began, becoming serious once more, “I want us to have our child again,” he said, reaching out and placing his hand on her bare flat stomach. “And a life together for as long as possible.”

David had seemed almost giddy. The deep rich rumble of his laughter and his perfect white smile, had rendered Emily temporarily speechless and she couldn’t stop the tears of happiness that sprang to her eyes. With a sob, she cried, “Oh David, I do too! For as long as we can have it.”

Ignoring the sobering question of how long that would really be, Emily turned to him and kissed his mouth until the future, and the fear of it, faded away.

David drank from her again and they made love again and after the third time, he urged Emily to get some rest and she conceded only if he promised to be there when she awoke.

**************

David reveled in the feeling of Emily’s warm naked body molded against his. He had never known such happiness and contentment in his entire existence, not just the physical satisfaction, but total emotional joy and fulfillment. He had been just a young man when he was Turned so he hadn’t yet experienced love as a Natural. And once he was cursed, he was certain he would never know true love and be doomed to be alone for centuries. He never imagined he could have the love of a woman, especially that of a Natural woman as extraordinary as Emily. Develyn had been right. When he first saw her, it was more than love at first sight. More than her beauty that drew him. It was as if their souls recognized each other as being their missing halves. His suffering soul calling out, and her healing one, answering.

David looked down at Emily’s sleeping face against his shoulder and smiled. Her dark lashes fanned against her pale cheeks. Her full lips, still swollen from their passion, were parted slightly, emitting soft steady breaths.

It took some convincing to get her to go to sleep, but after what she had been through the past week and the vision of the future, David didn’t blame her for being afraid to close her eyes.

Because of their strong connection he had experienced everything she did and it had been nothing short of pure hell. Emily suffered through his death, became over wrought with guilt and grief because of it and nearly lost her own life. She had experienced the wonder of being with child and giving birth, only to lose that child within a blink of an eye. She had witnessed Robert, who she clearly loved like her own grand father, dying slowly on the floor and then of course, through it all, there had been Develyn to contend with. . .

With the thought of his brother, David’s arms tightened instinctively around her and his cooling blood managed to boil.

Develyn had killed him. Not out of anger, hate or jealousy, but out of love. To end his suffering. To end the torture Develyn clearly blamed himself for. In a bizarre fashion, one that could be only understood in their particular Order of the vampire realm, David was touched that Develyn had done it.

There was a time when David had contemplated ending Develyn’s existence, but he feared his underlying bitterness toward him would negate the gesture and Develyn’s soul would be lost. Plus Develyn never seemed to really resent his existence. In fact, he not only appeared to have adapted well, but he seemed to flourish.

However, that was before the truth was revealed. Before David heard, through Emily’s ears, his brother’s confessions and seen, through Emily’s eyes, his brother’s face in the mirror. The incredible anguish, the grief, the guilt.

As unnatural as it seemed, David understood why Develyn did it and he accepted it. He could even forgive him for it, but not for what he had done to Emily. It was inexcusable. Unforgivable. Develyn had deceived her in the most lecherous of ways and he was going to pay for that.

. . . As the image of Emily, in throes of passion in his brother’s arms in the shower, flashed through David’s mind, murderous rage coursed through him and his slowing heart thudded painfully in his chest.

The fire had died down to embers and the room was growing cold, just like he was. Carefully extracting himself from Emily, David climbed out of bed and pulled the covers up and tucked them around her.

Crossing the floor to the fireplace, his naked body, a perfect example of male form, glowed iridescently in the moonlight that flooded the room. He stoked the fire and added a few logs before he dressed and went down stairs to confront Develyn upon his return.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Deja’ Vu Again

Emily stirred and stretched, smiling at the achiness of her limbs and body. She turned over and hugged a pillow close, breathing in the scent of sandalwood. How she loved that smell. It was David’s smell.

David!

Eyes popping open, she saw the fancy patterned wallpaper. Springing to a sitting position, she looked around the room. Moonlight poured through the windows and a fire still burned in the fireplace. She was in David’s room. In David’s bed. But David was gone! He had promised to be there. No! Not again! her mind screamed. This can’t be happening! Things were different this time. They hadn’t made love in the shower. Develyn hadn’t been lying in wait for her return to David’s bedroom. They hadn’t killed David. Or had they? She wasn’t sure what was real and what was a vision.

Heart pounding, she threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. Grabbing the robe he had been wearing, she tied the belt about her waist and flew to the door. When she flung it open, she heard the sound of shattering glass. Please, God, no! She prayed. Please don’t let this be happening! Not again!

As she ran, Emily saw Robert pass at the end of the hall heading toward the stairs. His long hair was loose and mussed from sleep and he was wearing his old blue robe over his blue pajamas.

Her heart leapt at the sight of him and she desperately wanted to run up to him and hug him, but she wasn’t sure if any of it was real or just another horrible vision. Hesitantly, she called out.

Robert stopped short and waited until she neared before he anxiously whispered, “Miss Emily! Are you all right? Did you hear it too?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Do you have your pistol?”

Robert looked confused, but he nodded. “Aye, but how did you know?”

“I can’t explain it right now, but can I have it, please,” she asked, turning her head toward the noise coming from below.

With eyebrows meeting over his nose, he withdrew it from his pocket and handed it over.

Not exactly sure why she wanted it or what she planned on doing with it, Emily hurried down the stairs on trembling legs. The sound of a man’s growl turning her blood cold.

AUTHOR’S NOTES

Readers, thank you for choosing Develyn’s Tale. I hope you enjoyed the continuation of the story begun in Forever David’s.

In the third and final book, The End of the Order, it will start at the very beginning with Count Konrad and Valaree Von Wahran’s love affair, the early Natural and Unnatural lives of David and Develyn, up to the present with Emily, and onto the dramatic conclusion.

Shannon Bailey