The Killing Moon:
©2007 Black Rose Collection
by: Melissa
Based on the physical description of Erik from the Phantom of the Opera. All other characters depicted here are fictitious and original, including the surname Renault. Do not use without my permission.
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Prologue:
August 1985
The sleek, black beast ran alone over the tall
ridge that loomed over the valley near the large river.
A voice.
No, not just a voice, but the soft sounds of
laughter. The laughter of a female.
Going on instinct, he ventured down into the
valley, then leapt onto the top of one of the rocks, his keen green eyes
darkening as he scanned the horizon, his nose sniffing the warm air.
That’s where he spotted her.
The young girl, no more than fourteen, was laying
back against the rocks below, a few feet from the river bank, sunning herself
on the hot summer day. She seemed oblivious to the world around her, peaceful,
quiet…and lovely.
She kept her eyes closed, the hot sun quickly
drying her wet bathing suit. It didn’t take long for her to start drifting off
to sleep, that is, until she heard the faint sounds of purring close to her
right ear.
Unusual, she thought to herself, a cat out at the
river like this?
But this was no cat.
When she turned her head, her lazy eyes finally
gazed upon the sight next to her. Slowly, she sat up, her young mind still
unaware of just how much danger she was in.
But this beast was no threat. At least, not to
her.
“Where did you come from?” she asked with an
innocent smile. “It’s so hot, you must be thirsty.”
The beast purred louder, inching closer, still
sniffing.
Yes, she was the one, the same one it had visited
before, her scent familiar. He knew he'd see her again.
“It’s okay; I have a sandwich in my bag if you
want it.” She continued to speak to the beast as if it could understand.
But it could, for this was not just some ordinary
beast.
Again, it drew itself closer until they were a
mere inches apart. The young girl’s eyes marveled over the creature, fascinated
by its sleek black body and pale green eyes. The most beautiful eyes she’d ever
seen. Not even her own Siamese cat, Ming, had such soulful, meaningful eyes. It
was as if this strange feline seemed to know her, know her thoughts, her
feelings.
Because, it did.
“Lexa…just remain still, sweetheart.”
She turned towards the voice to find her father,
standing about twenty feet away at the bank of the river. He had a large stick
in his hand and she noted he looked frightened, but she couldn't understand
why.
“What’s wrong, Daddy?” she asked softly. “It’s
just a big cat.”
Just a big cat? Her father inhaled sharply. It was the biggest, most
menacing black panther he’d ever seen. In all the years he’d come to Rawdon,
he’d never seen anything close to it. How on earth did it get here? Panthers
were definitely not native to
“Just back away slowly, closer to me.” He
instructed her, but she didn’t appear to be phased. She’d already turned her
head back to the panther and was reaching out to touch its soft black fur.
“Lexa…no.” he tried to scream as his heart leapt
into his throat, but he didn’t want to startle the panther, so it came out much
tamer than he’d wished.
Besides, it was too late. She started scratching
behind the panther’s ear and was amused when it leaned against her hand and
began to purr louder. She giggled to her father, “See, he only wants to be
petted. Isn’t he beautiful?”
He was indeed a beautiful animal, her father could
see that clearly, but it was also very dangerous. “That’s fine, but do what I
say and come here, leave the…cat…alone, we need to go back to camp.”
The disappointment showed over the girl’s face.
The panther was licking the side of her wrist with an affection she hadn’t even
seen out of Ming. She didn’t want to be away from it, but she did as she was
told. She stood and looked down at the panther, wishing with all her might that
she could turn away from it long enough to grab her camera. This, she
definitely wanted to capture on film.
“Lexa, now sweetheart.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She said towards him, then turned
back to the panther, “I have to go now, sorry. Bye.”
And with that, the panther, seemingly
understanding her words, shot a protective glance at her father, then leapt up
the rocks and disappeared, leaving the young girl to do nothing but sigh sadly,
figuring she’d never see it again.
She was wrong.
Chapter One:
Early January 2007
The smell of fresh cut grass on a warm, humid
day. The sound of birds flapping their wings, crickets chirping at nightfall.
The sound of the water trickling over the rocks, the coolness of it as it runs
over your feet, refreshing, soft…
Lexa Gordon let out an exasperated breath of pure
longing. Yes, she loved the outdoors, she felt more comfortable there than she
did anywhere and with most anyone.
Until today.
This particular Friday afternoon, she found
herself stranded, her car stuck in a snow bank after skidding on a patch of ice
on the narrow back roads of the western
Cursing herself for not taking the more traveled
road, she grabbed her cell to call her best friend, Tasha for help. Her
boyfriend, Bobby, had a four wheel drive truck, he could pull her car out. It
would only take them about a half hour at the most to get from
Or so she thought.
The cell signal died as quickly as the engine and
she slapped at it in utter frustration. “Work, damn you!” she cried, as if
screaming at it would somehow make it function properly. It was no use. So far
away from the nearest working cell tower, plus the snowy sky and lessening
visibility made it impossible to get anyone.
Great idea, Lexa…she mocked herself…you wanted to drive to Rawdon…you
wanted to take pictures of the snowfall on the water…brilliant…
Throwing on her thick coat, her gloves and hat to
start building body heat that would brace her against the cold that would begin
to seep through the poorly insulated car, she huddled down, wondering what to
do next. Surely a car would pass, eventually. She waited to see lights as she
reached for her flashlight out of the glove compartment. She flicked it and was
relieved to see that it worked. At least something did.
Between the fog that was forming on her windshield
and her misty eyes, she could see the snow falling harder and harder, the wind
picking up, making it almost pitch dark in the late afternoon. She tried the
car radio to get a current weather report.
More snow expected….blizzard conditions….new
warnings…road closings…people advised to stay indoors….
Now she’d done it. Again, she cursed her
stupidity. She had just wanted some rest from a stressful three weeks at her
new job…a photographer for Modern Botanist Magazine.
She’d dreamed of being a photographer all of her
life, since she’d begged her mother for her first cheap little 35mm camera…a
gift for her eighth birthday. Since then, she took pictures of everything she
saw…her new kitten, Ming, her brother Sammy, the neighbor’s flower garden.
Nothing was off limits.
Then the day of her twelfth birthday, her Father,
Brice, showed her Rawdon and her life changed. Just having moved the month
prior to
Those very same photographs still hang in her
mother’s home in
An hour passed. The sudden car radio static made
Lexa jump. The battery began to fade and with it, the heater. She held tight to
the flashlight, praying the batteries would hold, hoping against hope she
wouldn’t be left in the darkness, as well as the cold.
A second hour passed. No cars. The snow fell
harder, making visibility almost nil, the wind picking it, almost wailing. Lexa
shivered mercilessly against the cold, knowing minute by minute that passed
would be less likely someone would spot her silver sedan in the snow, but knew
that venturing out for help wasn’t much safer. But at least, out on the road,
she could try to flag down someone using the flashlight, anyone who might come
close. The main road couldn’t be that far away, could it?
Holding tight to the flashlight, she opened the
door, pushing against the pile of snow already built up beside it. She slid
out, pulling her hat tightly over her ears and the scarf over her mouth and
nose. The wind almost blew her over but she started up the small dirt road, or
what was left of the road that she could see. Her flashlight shining, she
trudged through snow that was almost ankle deep now in spots, wishing she had
worn a better pair of winter boots. Her feet and ankles began to ache, her
socks not nearly enough to shield her skin from the inevitable frostbite. She
felt it to her bones, her shivering was no longer sufficient enough to help
generate heat.
A mile, maybe more, she could now no longer see
the car, could barely see her hand before her eyes. How far had she gone?
Yes, just a little more….a little more…she walked, trying to talk to herself to keep alert. Someone
will happen by…
Temperatures dropping rapidly. Confusion set in
quicker than she anticipated. Where was that damn main road?
She recognized nothing now, no familiar landmarks.
There were only trees, endless rows of trees that seemed to stretch upward into
nothingness, gray blankets of snow and cold….lots of cold.
Everything began to blur…tunnel vision set
in…became almost black and white, the sound of the whirling wind deafening. She
stopped and leaned against a tree…
To rest, just to rest…
…the flashlight falling to the ground, her cold
hands unable to hold it any longer, her mind racing…
lost…hopeless…
…she was going to die out there….and no one would
ever know.
Oh dear God…tell everyone how sorry I am for
being so stupid, I just wanted to…she
prayed softly, her mind hazy as her body slumped down to the ground in
exhaustion, unable to feel her legs anymore.
Please…let someone find me before the buzzards
do…
Then, darkness.
Chapter Two:
Lexa woke to warmth, overwhelming, comforting warmth. She blinked several times, but could see nothing except pitch blackness, feel nothing but numbness. She hated the dark.
Was she dead?
Movement behind her confirmed with a stark awareness, she was very much alive.
Lying in a bed.
And naked.
The haze lifted slowly and she soon became aware of arms wrapped tightly around her body. She froze in shock. Where was she? Had she been found by Tasha? Tentatively, her body weak, she reached and touched the arm around her waist. Yes, Tasha being a nurse, she would know about the whole ‘two person generating heat’ thing. But no, it wasn’t Tasha behind her.
It was a man’s arm.
Her eyes widened in the darkness as she heard steady, even breathing behind her. Scanning, there was not even a hint of moonlight anywhere. No windows? Surely, this wasn’t Bobby behind her.
“Bobby?” she tried to speak, but was shocked to discover only her lips moved, nothing came from her throat, she felt it almost clamp shut.
Dear God, where am I?
Then, the arm moved. Moved and touched her arm as the breathing dramatically changed into a sharp inhale. Whoever this man was, he was now awake and aware as well.
More movement behind her. She felt a soft scratch to her lower back…a button perhaps…
The man was wearing clothing? More movement, another brush against her sensitive skin. Was he wearing denim jeans? No, softer than denim…slacks maybe.
That, in itself, was a relief. And a bit of a disappointment.
It had been two months since she’d been close to a man in bed, not since her last night with David, the night he broke off their engagement. But that was another story.
She shook her head softly as she tried to open her mouth and speak a second time, find out where she was, who she was with.
As she forced air through her vocal cords, that is when the pain hit. Searing pain as her words tried to escape. Nothing came but a screech, a pathetic sound that died the moment it hit air.
“Shhh…” the voice behind her said. The air brushed across her ear, making her stiffen. “Sleep now.”
The voice, although a whisper, was definitely not Bobby’s. An exuberant, boisterous man, she had never heard Bobby whisper, and wasn’t even sure he knew how.
“You are safe now, sleep…”
“But where…?” she tried to ask. At least this time the words formed, but again, they died away to nothing. Then her body began to shake, not from fright, but…from fever.
No, she wasn’t dead, but now she felt like dying.
If the voice responded, she didn’t notice. The haze returned and although she could feel the man’s hand now stroking her hair, brushing it from her face, she no longer had the power, or the will to protest. All she wanted to do was follow the voice and drift away.
You are safe now,
sleep…safe…sleep…
And sleep she did.
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“Madame…” A calm, kind sounding voice spoke.
Lexa opened her eyes, but could hardly move anything else. There, before her, she finally saw some light, a soft golden glow that illuminated a figure. Actually, a young woman on closer inspection. She narrowed her eyes and tried to talk. “Uh…” the sound was stronger but caused just as much pain as before. She grimaced.
“Je m’appelle, Katrine.”
French
Lexa narrowed her eyes. Although she spoke French, it was not frequent enough, her mind barely understood it, much less helped her to form much more of a reply other than, “Vous parlez… anglais?”
The young woman cleared her throat, “Yes. I am Katrine. I am ordered not to allow you to speak. You are very ill, Madame.” She spoke in a strong French accent, leaning over Lexa. “I am to give you this liquid.”
She held up the small vial of amber fluid, but Lexa shut her mouth tight. She was not about to put something in her body of unknown origin, especially when she still didn’t know where she was.
“S’il vous plaît…you must take this to be well.” Katrine begged, putting the vial to Lexa’s lips.
The smell hit her and in disgust, she turned away and managed to choke out, “What is…?”
“Medicine, Madame…only medicine, you have a severe infection and fever, you must take it.”
“I want…hospital.”
“I am afraid that is not possible, Madame.” Another voice spoke from across the room, deeper and more authoritative.
A man’s voice.
But she couldn’t tell if it was the man’s voice she had heard behind her…last night? My God, how long had she been asleep? “Why?”
The man approached and touched Katrine’s shoulder, but spoke to Lexa with an accent that was almost as heavy, “I am afraid we are snowed in here. So, please, take the medication, Madame, it is safe, I assure you.”
She stared at the man, studying him. He was tall and
thin, with a pasty complexion that reminded her of someone who was
nauseous. Maybe he was nauseous, she didn’t know for sure, he certainly seemed the
type. Although he spoke strongly, his eyes were soft and pleasant. She looked
down to notice he wore black slacks that matched his black, graying hair.
Black slacks…perhaps he was the one…
“Who…?” she tried to ask who the
man was, but her throat simply wouldn’t comply.
“Please, take the medicine then I
shall answer your questions.”
Apprehension was one thing, but
pain was another. If this stuff helped
the pain in her throat and the ache in her bones, she’d have to risk it. With a nod, she saw a smile creep across
Katrine’s features as she held the vial out again. She swallowed it and almost choked when she
detected whisky in the mixture. An old,
but trusted cold remedy, she remembered it from her grandmother.
“Ce sera
tout, Katrine.” The man said and she stood in compliance. With a simple nod to Lexa, Katrine left the
room quickly, but not before Lexa could see her as she opened the door, the
light from the hallway illuminating her briefly. She was wearing a dark
uniform. A maid? She had to be.
The man did not approach, but
stayed respectfully near the door after he shut it behind Katrine. “Very well,
you did what I asked, so please, ask me what you will and I will answer what I
can.”
“Who… are you?” she asked, then
her eyes widened in surprise as she noticed the pain in her throat had lessened
enough for her to get a couple of words out.
She also began to feel very warm and comfortable, “Wow…good stuff…” she
almost jumped for joy. “…want…more.”
The man chuckled, “Not for a
while, Madame…until then, rest and relax.”
That, she could do.
“And to answer your question, I am
Darren Ridgeway.” He gave her a short, very respectable nod of his head.
She nodded, “Mister Ridgeway.
Where…am…?”
“Darren, please, and I cannot
answer that. All I can tell you is you
are safe and once you are well, you will be returned to your car where the
authorities will find you. We, in good
conscience, could not allow you to be left out in the cold in such a condition
as yours, even for the short time it would take for them to get to you, so we
decided it was best to bring you here. So I hope you will accept our
hospitality.”
Hospitality? Her eyes narrowed again.
“But…” she tried to say as she
attempted to sit up but not only was her body still wracked with fever, her
body was extremely weak. Her head spun violently, almost to the point of
faintness.
Darren made no attempt to stop
her, he knew he wouldn’t have to, “Please, Madame…lay still, you are still very
ill.”
She let herself flop back again
and took a long, hitching breath, “How long…here?”
“This is your second night here,
Madame.”
Her eyes widened. Two nights?
That would make it Sunday night. Surely Tasha and Bobby were looking for
her. They were supposed to get together
at their house for dinner.
“My friends….phone…I…”
“Please, relax…we have no landline
phone here and the cell…well, with this storm, getting a signal is impossible.”
“Storm?”
“A blizzard, I am afraid.” He
shook his head slowly. “It came down
hard since Friday afternoon. It has
lessened some today, but the snow has reached at least four feet. Luckily out here, with the generator, we
still have power, but much of
We. The second time he’s said that word. Was there anyone there other than him and
Katrine?
“We? Who are…we?”
She tried to ask, a million other questions going through her mind, but her
mouth could no longer form the few words she’d been able to utter. Her eyelids were heavy and her mouth
dry. She felt herself fading again.
Darren seemed to sense this,
because without another word, he left the room. The last sound Lexa heard was
the soft click of the door as it shut behind him.
Then the blackness returned.
________________________________________________
It was Tuesday before Lexa had
enough strength to be propped up on a pillow by Katrine and attempt to consume
something more solid than water, hot tea and broth. The pleasant maid sat a tray on her lap and
went to the window, “It is a beautiful day, Madame. Perhaps you would like to see outside?”
“Yes, please, I feel like a
prisoner in here.” Lexa answered hoarsely, looking down at the tray. The plates were covered by domes and she when
tried to peek, Katrine came back by her side in a snap.
“No, no. Not just yet.” She admonished, almost
playfully, then pointed to the window.
“See how lovely it is.”
Lexa couldn’t help but grin
broadly. The sun flooded the small room
and for the first time, she could see her surroundings enough to make
note. The room she was in was sparsely,
but pleasantly accented with dark blue walls, smattered with a few paintings
that hung here and there. Her bed, made
of beautiful ornate mahogany, a matching dressing table, side table and rocking
chair were the only furniture in the room.
The floor was hardwood but had a couple of blue and green flowered rugs
on it…one under the dressing table and one under the rocking hair. And directly in front of her bed…a large
stone fireplace that took up nearly half the wall. It had a small fire lit in it that kept the
room nicely warm.
“A beautiful room, is it not?”
Katrine asked, reaching for the domes to remove them off her tray.
“It truly is. Wonderfully decorated.”
“Yes, he has wonderful taste.”
“Mr. Ridgeway?”
“No..uh…yes,
Monsieur Ridgeway of course.” The woman stumbled, nervously pushing a strand of
auburn hair behind her ear.
She’d spoke out of turn about
something. And Lexa knew it.
“Please, eat now. When you are stronger, I will help you walk
around the room if you wish.” Katrine changed the subject and gestured to the
tray.
She looked down to see a bowl of
soup, some bread, two different cheeses, some fruit and a glass of tea. It looked and smelled delicious.
“Try it.” Katrine prompted,
holding out the spoon for her.
She pulled the bowl closer to her
and took a sip. An immediate spicy heat
filled her mouth. Curry…cinnamon…some
ginger….she could taste that immediately.
She swallowed apprehensively. It stung like hell. “Oww…”
Katrine patted her hand. “I know it hurts, but the spices will help
your throat and you need nutrition, try and get it down.”
Despite the pain, she continued to
sip on the soup and eat the bread dipped in it.
The meal was delicious, probably the best meal she’d had in ages… then
she found herself giggling inwardly, thinking how it didn’t matter what it was,
she hadn’t eaten solid food since Friday … it could have been wallpaper paste
and it would have been the best meal ever.
When Katrine left the room to
return the tray, Lexa sat back against the headboard of the bed, resting on the
fluffy pillow. She ran her hand over the
bedcovering, a thick quilt, bright, colorful and comfortably toasty. This
must have cost a fortune, she mused, feeling the patches of silk, velvet,
velour and brushed cotton.
With a sigh, she let her eyes view
the room again. The walls were already
starting to close in. She had tons of
questions and she stewed, worried about Tasha.
The woman must be frantic by now, no doubt having every available
policeman out combing the woods…
Oh God!
She hadn’t bothered telling Tasha
she was going to Rawdon! She slapped her
forehead. Poor Tasha, there was no way
they’d look in the right place for her.
Poor Tasha? No, poor
me! She’d have to answer for this when she
got home.
If she got home.
Curiosity, and the sudden urge to
stretch her legs, got the best of her and she simply couldn’t wait for Katrine
to return. Throwing the covers back, she
gently turned her body around on the bed.
She put her feet on the floor, the hardwood almost shockingly cold by
contrast. She gathered up the white,
homely gown that Katrine had kindly loaned her to wear in her fists and tucked
it to the side so she could slide off the bed.
Four days, she told herself. Four days since she’d stood. This wouldn’t be easy. Her first attempt was a total failure as she
didn’t even make it off the bed. Attempt
two was a bit more successful, but ended in her sitting back down again,
panting. On attempt three, she managed
to stand, closing her eyes as stars swirled around her head and beads of sweat
formed on her forehead. Her legs wobbled
but she didn’t fall. It took her nearly
ten minutes to make it five feet to the rocking chair by the full length
window, but she made it and felt triumphant.
She flopped into the chair, feeling as if she’d run a marathon.
Blinking against the sharp sunlight,
she peeked outside and gasped as everything slowly came into focus. She had to still be in Rawdon, but what part?
It was unfamiliar to her. She could see
the river and a tall waterfall right out her window. As she suspected, the snow was still there,
the cold freezing the river almost solid, but just a few trickles managed to
seep from the waterfall. It reminded her
of an ice palace. She was so moved, yet disappointed she didn’t have her camera
from the car, this was exactly what she’d hoped to find on her trek and she
knew Zander, her boss at the magazine would die for a
shot of it. Unfortunately, for now, her
eyes would have to serve for memory instead of a camera lens.
Wow…she said
softly. I could stare at this all day…
But her body, to her surprise, had
other plans.
Chapter Three:
Erik Renault stood outside on his back deck, viewing the starry night until the cold made his hands numb. He could no longer think straight. He’d made such a mistake, taken such a risk. He shouldn’t have gone to her, shouldn’t have held her the way he did.
The night, four nights ago, had gone smoothly enough. Darren had arrived to bring him last minute paperwork and after a leisurely dinner and viewing the news, realized all too quickly that the weather was changing for the worst. Erik insisted he stay the night. Darren agreed and took the room he always occupied when staying overnight, the upstairs guestroom, then went to his car to gather his larger briefcase.
That’s when he saw it, a faint glimmer of light shining in the blackness from the canyon below the cabin. Darren came back into the house, calling to Erik that someone was outside wandering around. Erik grabbed his shotgun, coat and gloves and with Darren close behind, ran out to investigate.
They didn’t expect to find a woman lying on the ground, frozen and almost dead. Erik effortlessly picked her up and they brought her back to the house to the smaller third floor loft bedroom. He called to his live-in maid, Katrine to undress her and put her under the covers, while Darren built a fire. Erik stood back and watched with an almost detached nature. Who was this woman and why was she alone in the woods, at least three miles away from the main road? He was almost irritated at the notion. He was a recluse; he wanted no one other than his small handful of employees to know where he was. Now there was a stranger in his home. It bothered him, but he had no choice. For the sake of humanity, he had to help.
After nearly two hours, Darren returned from scanning the area using Erik’s hummer and reported a car had landed in a deep snowbank at least four miles away, but he couldn’t get close enough to it to search inside. It had to belong to the woman, but he couldn’t believe she had walked at least four miles in the snow. How did she survive so long?
Against his better judgment, he checked on the woman and found she was still almost blue in color, her body shaking unconsciously, her hands and feet icy cold. There was only one thing to do to warm her up.
He’d considered stripping naked, knowing skin to skin contact would be best, but what if she woke up, which surely she would when she got warm? He didn’t want her to panic. He opted to remove his shirt, but remain clothed otherwise. He climbed in bed beside her, taking care not to look at her naked flesh, but his eyes flew there anyway. How could he not look? This was a woman and at least by first impression, a rather beautiful woman. He noted her medium blonde hair that fell just past her shoulder and was softly curled. Her skin was ivory, despite the tinge of blue from the cold. As he inched closer, his hands could feel her full bodied, healthy curves. She was certainly the type of woman he would have taken to his bed, under different circumstances.
But tonight was definitely not the night.
He curled closer to her but had trouble focusing his mind on anything other than heavenly scent. The hint of perfume, a brand name he couldn’t immediately identify, but he was sure he’d never forget it. Jasmine, sandlewood, vanilla. It suited her…and distracted him.
That was when he shut off the light. It didn’t take long of his hands rubbing her hands, her arm, her thigh, that she began to warm under his touch. Only then did he stop and allow his own body to relax and drift off to sleep.
It was her stirring that woke him again. He didn’t know how long he’d slept and he didn’t care. She was waking up and it frightened him, praying she wouldn’t panic and scream.
But instead, her hand touched his arm. Oh God…she had soft hands. She tried to speak, but couldn’t. He felt her begin to shake, felt the high heat coming from her body. Fever. He groaned inwardly. This wouldn’t be pretty, not at all.
She lost consciousness again and he left the room quietly. He knew he had a long night ahead of him.
He’d made the medicine himself, took pride in his long years of herbal medicine knowledge to come up with just the right ingredients. Pharmaceutical drugs? He scoffed. No one he knew took those horrid pills again after one dose of his herbal remedies. No side effects, no risk of liver damage or addiction, nothing but relief, and healing.
The first few doses over the two days came through injections that Katrine gave her. The woman remained in and out of a conscious state, full of jumbled, incoherent rambling. She would sweat profusely for a time as the fever broke, then turn flush once more as the fever returned. Finally, on Sunday morning, she began to stir again, her hoarsely spoken words finally beginning to make some sense. Then he prepared Katrine a vial to give her.
He hadn’t seen her since that first night.
Now both Katrine and Darren reported the woman was alert, eating well and slowly improving. Good, he told himself. Darren could return her to her car and inform the authorities where to find her. No way would he risk his hiding place by bringing people to his home. Yes, a few, trusted members of the nearby police knew of his existence, but only for safety purposes. For the last ten of his fifteen years living in his Rawdon countryside home, he’d remained in total, isolated solitude, and he had no intention of giving that up, woman or not.
But his instinctual inquisitiveness was taking its toll now, almost to the point where he could think of nothing else. He had to see her again. He walked inside from the back deck, to the long mirror that hung in the hallway. He stood before it, looking at his face, his hand touching the white mask that covered half of it.
No, he told himself, he was not intrigued by the nameless woman, merely by her illness and the admiration he had for her sheer will to survive. After all, he considered it a challenge each and every time he prepared medicine for anyone. A challenge to cure the unseen. This woman was no different. He had mended her, cured her and had no problem sending her back.
Yes, he would see her again before Darren took her away, but she would not see him.
__________________________________________
When Lexa woke up, she was still in the chair by the window, her head slumped to one side and now aching from the strain. She groaned and lifted it slowly, observing the darkness that fell on the room.
Night. Again. She blinked and could see some moonlight coming through the window and she willed her body to move so she could get out of the hard chair and back into the soft bed. Besides, her stomach growled, it had to be close to dinner time.
Three attempts made, three attempts failed. Damnit, where was Katrine?
“God, I’ll be stuck here forever.” She said out loud, half joking, half serious, her throat tight, dry and stinging from breathing the cooler air that seeped into the room from the window.
“Would that be so bad?” Erik’s voice whispered, seemingly out of nowhere.
Although it had been a few days, it was the voice she’d heard when she first woke up, she was almost certain. Gasping, she became desperate to see anything through the hazy moonlight. As she wished for a lamp, a flashlight or even a candle to light up the room, her mind thought of a million things to say, but all she answered was, “Depends on where I am, I suppose.”
“Why does that matter?” Erik asked, viewing her from the only corner of the room that the moonlight didn’t touch. He’d been standing there at least fifteen minutes, just watching her sleep, debating whether or not to put her in the bed, but afraid she’d awaken.
“Who are you? Because I know Darren’s voice by now, he’s visited me several times already.”
She was sharp, he granted her that. “All you need knowing is that I’m the owner of this home and I found you. You were almost dead.” He answered her, detached and neutral.
“Then I should be thanking you.”
“If it pleases you, but I need no repayment…Madame.”
“It’s Mademoiselle…Alexis. Well, only my mother calls me Alexis, everyone else calls me Lexa. My father started it, he said Alexis sounded too stuffy and….”
Lexa…
A long pause as Erik’s mind began to race furiously. He knew that name, a name that he had not heard spoken again, but had been burned in his mind for many years.
It cannot be…by the
river…so long ago…
“You tend to frequent Rawdon on the eve of coming blizzards, Mademoiselle?”
She snorted. “Of course not. I’d been working all day, alone and I didn’t know of the snow storm. I just wanted to come out here and…”
“From where?”
“
Silence.
“Anyway, I wanted to come out and take pictures of the snow on the river, it’s so pretty this time of year, although I prefer the summer and fall months better. I’ve been coming here for years just to take pictures, ever since I was young and….”
More silence.
Lexa became painfully aware she’d been rambling and stopped, listening close, her head crooked to the side. Had he left so soon? No, he wasn’t gone, she could hear his breathing.
Erik was breathing. He was breathing hard, cursing himself once more. All he’d wanted to do was see that she was well…now he wanted to talk to her, ask her a million questions, reach out and touch her. He missed a woman’s touch, missed the embrace of someone who wanted to be there, not someone obligated….
…now he realized, this could very well be the one he’d been missing all along.
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but…” Lexa finally broke the quiet.
“Yes. You want to go home.”
“I’ve been gone a while, I’m sure my friends are going nuts by now.”
“I know. I have seen the news reports of your disappearance.”
“You have?” she sat straight up like an arrow. “My friends, are they alright? What are the police doing? Are the phones fixed? Maybe I can just call them to let them know I’m okay.”
“Shhh…” he spoke softly. “The cell signal is still weak, do not worry yourself. Once you are free of the fever another few hours and no more medication is required, I will feel comfortable returning you to your car.”
“To my car?”
“Yes. See, you must understand, Le...” he almost bit his tongue bloody. He couldn't form her name on his lips, not just yet, “uh, Mademoiselle…I do not want my location discovered, but I assure you, Darren will see to it that rescuers arrive to take care of you. I would not allow him to leave you alone.”
She started to protest, to question, but the tone of finality in his response was too great. Besides, it didn’t matter, as long as she got to go home. And for the first time, she didn’t feel like such a prisoner.
Again, she tried to stand, this time succeeding. “I suppose I should try to get some rest…” she began to speak, but unexpectedly, the stars surrounded her and she felt faint. She reached for the rocking chair to steady herself, but only managed to knock it further out of her way.
Now she’d done it, she was going to hit the floor for sure.
Or so she thought.
Before she knew it, Erik had run to her side, catching her as she fell into his arms.
Big mistake.
The scent of perfume was gone, sweated away days ago, her unmistakable pheromone now filled his nostrils. It was fleeting, not nearly enough to overwhelm his human senses, but for the beast inside, it was all the proof he needed. It was her. After all these years, it was her.
“Easy, let me help you…” he said to her, his strong arms lifting her effortlessly as Lexa struggled to fight her way out of the weakness induced haze.
“I really thought….I could make it.” She said in frustration as she felt herself being carried across the room and gently laid on the bed. “Damn, I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired!”
He sat down next to her and before he could fight it, he’d taken her hands in his, “You’re in the midst of a serious physical trauma. You feel tired because your body is defending itself, trying to heal you. It is too soon to be trying so much. Rest and Katrine will bring your dinner. The meal I’ve prepared should be ready by now.”
His hands felt so warm, so strong, she squeezed them, “You…you cook?”
“Yes, I do.” He finally gathered his senses and pulled his hands away, “That surprises you?”
She laughed softly as Erik covered her up again. The blankets had been close to the small fire and felt warm against her cold legs. “I suppose so, I don’t know too many men who cook.”
David tried to cook,
but he was horrible…ugh…keep him out of your mind, Lexa, you idiot!
“I enjoy it. I cook for myself all the time. Katrine, a fine housekeeper…but she cannot open a can of soup.”
That brought another smile, “So the soup today…that was yours.”
“It was… vegetable curry. I hope it was to your liking.”
“Yes, it was.”
Another, more uncomfortable silence fell, then Lexa felt a shift in the bed as Erik stood and she could hear his shoes clicking on the hardwood floor as he went to the door.
“You're leaving?” her voice almost squealed in momentary panic before she could gather an ounce of manners, but she couldn't help it, she was quickly growing addicted to hearing his voice. She scooted her way toward the lamp to turn it on, hating that it was too dark to see his face. “I was hoping maybe…you could have your dinner up here?”
The yes came so close to gliding off his tongue he could almost taste it. What was he thinking? He’d tried to tell himself earlier that she was just a guest, a sick guest who was leaving soon, but he now knew otherwise. She was more, so much more than that.
She was his Lexa.
And that was precisely why he had to remain away. “No, I cannot stay, I apologize. I have things that need tending to. Enjoy your dinner and rest well.”
“Thank you.”
“Bonne nuit.” Was all he said before the door clicked shut.
She sighed, “Bonne nuit…”
Chapter Four:
By the middle of the next day, Lexa had walked across the room twice without stopping. It was tiring, but she didn’t faint. A huge improvement over the previous day. Her body still felt aching and sore, but Katrine, who kept close watch, assured her the fever was gone and she required no more medication.
A shame really, she thought to herself with a smirk, I was beginning to like the stuff.
“Perhaps, you would like to shower and put on your clothes today, now that you are able to stand long enough? I washed them for you.” Katrine said as she gathered up her lunch tray. The young woman was pleased that she’d eaten everything this time with less pain.
“Oh, yes, I’d love that.” It was a welcome offer. Lexa hadn’t showered since she’d been there. Her hands went to her hair, the mass was stringy and tangled, and she was sure Katrine could smell her body odor from across the room, “The walls are really closing in. Maybe I could walk around the house a bit, go downstairs or something, you know, now that I feel a bit more energetic?” She answered from the window, observing that the snow had melted some overnight and more water was trickling down from the waterfall. A good sign of warming temperatures, even if it was slight.
“No, I am sorry, but that is not permitted. Only the top floor, this room and the bathroom, as always.” Katrine said firmly.
It made Lexa’s head spin around. All she’d seen since she’d been able to walk was the small bathroom right outside her door.
“Why?”
“My orders, Mademoiselle.” She answered, her brows furrowed, as if the answer was so simple.
“Who ordered you?”
She didn’t answer, but Lexa knew it anyway. It was ordered by the man who owned the house, the one who’d visited her the night before.
She groaned, irritated. “Actually, we could do with less formality; couldn’t you just call me Lexa?”
“I am instructed not to call you by your first name.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why? Christ, how old are you?”
Katrine’s eyes widened at the sudden change in tone. “I am twenty-seven, Mademoiselle, but I do not see what this has to do with….”
That came as a shock; she felt the woman had to be no more than twenty.
“…it has to do with orders, Katrine, you aren’t a child….”
“I am an employee. I do what I am told.”
Orders. Lexa hated orders…rules…restrictions.
But nevertheless, what the man did with his employees was his business. “Very well, I don’t see as I have much choice. As long as I can shower….” At least she could leave the room for a little longer this time. Bathroom or not, that was something.
And maybe if she was nice, she could negotiate her way into seeing more of the house, later. That is, if she ever ran into the owner again.
She hoped that would be very soon.
_______________________________________________________
She’d stayed under the steaming hot water long than she’d anticipated and even though, her fingers had shriveled up to nothing, she felt refreshed. Katrine had given her shampoo and the most wonderfully fragranced soap she’d ever smelled. So wonderful that she used it twice. She needed it; she felt she had enough crud on her body for three other people.
She emerged from the bathroom, hair dripping, a large warm towel wrapped around her. Even though she’d assured her she was fine and watched her go off to finish her cleaning, she was still half expecting to see Katrine waiting by the door to escort her right back to her room like a prison matron.
But she was alone again.
And this time, out of the room.
She peered to her left as she heard footsteps below her, the distinctive echo of male shoes on a hardwood floor, the same sound that she had heard the night before in her darkened room.
As silently as she could, trying to avoid the older looking planks that would squeak under her feet, she walked to the balcony and tentatively put her hands on the railing to peer over. Below her, like emerging from a cocoon to the open world for the first time, she could tell just how high up she actually was. She was on the third floor and as she looked around, she could see out into the open area, reminding her of a large cathedral-like church, all the beams in a light hardwood with pendant lights dropping down, although they were not lit. Even at such a dizzying height, she managed to look down to the bottom floor, a large sitting area and there, although the room was dim from the pulled curtains, she could make out a tall figure pacing across the floor.
He was wringing his hands.
Was this the mysterious man she had encountered the night before? At least now she could make out a few more features…the man was definitely tall, lean bodied with dark hair, although dark brown or black she couldn't tell. He wore a light (probably white she gathered, but wasn’t sure) button down shirt and dark pants. He kept his head down and it seemed the longer he paced, the more anxious he became.
He walked closer to the corner and all but disappeared from view. She suddenly found herself almost holding her breath, anxiously waiting for him to re-emerge.
She knew she shouldn’t be there, she knew she shouldn’t spy, but damn her curiosity, she just wanted to see his face, just a glimpse of something other than a ghostly shadow….
Her train of thought was abruptly cut short as he suddenly moved back into her view again.
Pacing…just endless pacing. What had this man so lost in thought, so distracted, so anxious? She practically leaned over the rail now to view him.
Closer, just a little
closer and…
…then she shifted and the floor creaked.
My God, it almost sounded like machine gun fire.
The man stopped dead in his tracks and she could feel herself freeze where she stood above, afraid to move, afraid no matter which direction she went, she’d make the floor creak again.
Then he looked up at her and she saw what she’d been dying to see all along. His face. Or, only half of his face. The other half was covered by what appeared to be a light colored mask. Her gaze became fixated there and remained, refusing to turn anywhere else.
Why is this man
wearing a mask, and…oh god…
When the realization finally hit her that he was looking up at her, it was too late to hide it. Enough fright went through her at that moment that she did the only thing she could think of, turn on her heels and head for the bedroom as fast as her weak legs would carry her. Only then did she run smack into Katrine, who was coming from the opposite direction to check on her.
“Oh, there you are! You spent a long time in the shower, Mademoiselle.” She said pleasantly.
She hadn’t seen, she didn’t know.
Lexa let out a deep breath, almost hoarse from embarrassment, “Yes, but the water felt so good, I just wanted to stay in there.”
“Yes, I understand. My, you are out of breath, let me help you to the bed.”
Katrine took her arm and walked her back to the bedroom and by the time she got there, Lexa was so exhausted and trying so desperately to hide her flushed cheeks, that she flopped down on the bed. She wanted to crawl under the covers and hide, but the sight of her freshly cleaned clothes stopped that thought as fast as it came. She picked them up and inhaled. Her blouse smelled fresh and the jeans were soft.
Even with her eyes closed, she could feel Katrine sit behind her, “Oh, this feels so good…” she sighed as she began brushing her hair, taking great pains to ease out the tangles and allowing the natural waviness to return.
“I am sorry that I have no hairdryer for you.” Katrine said, “But it will dry soon enough. I suspect it does not need much other than that, it is so lovely. I wish I had hair like yours.”
But Lexa wasn’t thinking about her hair, or anything else. She bit her tongue, dying to ask a million questions about the man she’d just seen, but she chose to proceed cautiously, “So, Katrine…can you at least tell me the name of your employer?”
The brush paused on her hair, “Why do you wish to know?”
Lexa’s brow furrowed, “Well, if I’m to thank someone for helping me, at least I’d like to know how to address him.”
“I see. Well, he has not given me permission to do so, so I am afraid I cannot. I am sure that he will reveal what he wants you to know in due time.”
“Do you think he’ll visit me again?”
“That, I do not know, I am sorry.”
“Maybe you could have him come up here…so I could talk to him?”
“Oh, no, I am afraid that is impossible, he is a busy man and does not wish to be disturbed…”
“But…”
“I am sorry, Mademoiselle, he is very serious about his privacy.”
She could only shake her head, knowing it was futile…Katrine was too hard to sway, “Uh, well, how long have you been working for him? Surely, you can answer that.”
“About eight years, Mademoiselle.”
“Do you have any family?”
Silence as the brush paused on her hair a second time.
Lexa peeked behind her, “Katrine?”
“No family living, Mademoiselle.” She finally answered, rather dryly.
“And you live here, full time.”
Katrine nodded, “Yes.”
“That’s a long time to be living so isolated, he must pay you well.”
A momentary silence, then, “Well enough.”
That was an enigmatic answer.
_________________________________________________
Erik picked up the folder full of
papers off his desk and walked around his office that sat at the far end of the
first floor, allowing the bright day’s sun to warm his face before anyone could
venture in and see him. It was the only
room in the house that he kept the window shades open to the outside
world. He leaned lingeringly against the
window pane, looking down the day’s business that Darren had brought him
earlier.
But he couldn’t concentrate on
business just yet.
He’d seen her. By God, he’d seen her by the full,
illuminating daylight that had burst through the top floor window…
…and in a towel, no less.
He’d been pacing around the
sitting room waiting for Darren to arrive with the items out of her car in
hopes of finding out additional information about her, getting more and more
impatient as the day wore on. Then he
heard it. The floor creaked and he
turned toward the loud sound, expecting it to be Katrine on her usual cleaning
routine.
But it wasn’t.
There she was up above, looking
down at him, her damp hair falling around her face, seemingly awestruck.
Or was she frightened?
Although time seemed to stand
still and everything fell into slow motion, he was sure it didn’t take long for
her to turn and quickly walk away, but it was just enough for him to sear the
image into his mind…and enough for his body to feel the impact.
He’d have to roam, to rid himself
of his human weaknesses, his human emotions, his human form.
And soon.
But that was over an hour
ago. A long hour with no other sound
coming from her room. Hopefully she was
now resting, sleeping, anything to keep her from coming out of there. He would have to speak to Katrine about
that. He’d told her to make sure she
didn’t go off by herself. Even though,
granted, she had only gone a few feet to the balcony. But no, not even that was
acceptable now. Yes, speak to Katrine, keep Lexa away.
Until he could send her home. The
sooner the better…and if she was doing well enough…
…tomorrow.
He finally threw down the folder
of papers and sat down at his desk. In
front of him lay her purse and camera bag, its contents strewn over the dark
mahogany. Nothing other than her driver’s license, some cash and a library card
in her wallet, none of it giving him anymore insight than he already knew.
And he needed more, much
more. Darren would see to that, he had
sources. He had internet, he had
connections. Erik had nothing, nothing but a driving need, a thirst, a hunger.
He stood then, his body almost
screaming the tell-tale signs of what he needed to do. But it had to wait, at least until dark,
until then, he had serious work ahead. He left the office quickly and headed
down to where he had his various medications stored.
She would go home, but she would have to forget…
…and this time, an herbal remedy
would not do.
Chapter Five:
Erik slowly unbuttoned his shirt as he stood at the door of his bedroom looking out onto the large second floor balcony.
It was time.
He could no longer fight it, the urge too overwhelming. And with the assurance from Katrine that Lexa would not come out of her room again, he could leave, shift his body, change and she would never see it.
He let the shirt slip off his shoulders and fall absentmindedly to the floor as he undid the button and zipper of his trousers. No, he had no time for neatness, but these clothes were too nice to allow them to get ripped to shreds when his body morphed. Katrine would simply come, pick up the pile and take them to be washed, as always.
Standing naked and vulnerable, his body exposed to the bitter cold air that was blowing through the open door, he let his mind go of all thought.
All except Lexa. Seeing her body before him in his mind, he envisions himself going up to her where she stands on the top floor. Grabbing her arm to prevent her flight, he pulls her close, removing the towel, the only barrier that prevented his eyes from seeing her fully formed body. His hands touch her, feeling her shudder under his warmth, her breathing turning ragged, uneven, intermittent with soft gasping as his thumbs graze over her hardened nipples. He lowers his head and brushes his lips against hers, feeling her hands on his arms, moving upward until they settle on his neck, her fingers dancing softly just inside the collar of his shirt.
Oh, Lexa…
Then the shift began.
Even all the times he had let go of his human form, the impact was still overwhelming. His fists clinched, feeling the searing pain of muscles constricting, tightening, almost screaming under the strain as his bones altered their natural shape. His field of vision narrowed, sharpened, turned black and white as he fell onto all four paws, panting hard, fighting the urge to cry out. His hearing became acute, almost agonizingly so. He could hear the faintest sounds from the now deafening rustle of the trees as the wind blew through them, to Katrine in the kitchen across the house, the dishes clanking as she washed them.
Looking down at his sleek, black form shining in the moonlight, he turned his nose to the air, sniffing. Yes, Lexa was in her room, safe from his inhuman lust, but her scent traveled to his sharp senses even still. He just wanted to go to her in this form, the form in which she’d always seen him. He wanted her to touch him, to talk to him. Would she remember him after so long? Would she scream, panic, try to run away, or would she welcome him with open arms?
No!
His mind screamed and with it, a deep growl echoed in the night as he dashed across the deck and leapt out onto the grass. Freedom at last. Only then could he run….and run…
…and maybe for a short time, forget.
_____________________________________
Lexa had no more finished her dinner of roasted chicken with wild rice and fresh vegetables that the door flew open and a very flustered Katrine walked into her room. She looked a bit peaked and more than a little put off.
“You’re right on time, I was just finished…” she said, laying her napkin down onto the tray.
“Why did you go to the balcony, Mademoiselle?” Katrine interrupted, her voice much firmer and definitely angrier than Lexa had ever heard it.
She jumped back slightly, feeling herself flush, “Uh, I…”
“Did I not tell you he did not wish for you to go past the bedroom and bathroom?”
“Yes, you did tell me, but I…surely you didn’t get into trouble.”
The maid turned away, “Yes, he was upset; apparently you both saw one another. He was not happy about it, not happy at all.”
“Oh, I didn’t know he’d get so upset…”
“You did not? Did I not say that he wanted things a certain way? That he was serious about his privacy? That I was his employee and I did as I was told? I asked you one simple thing, I trusted you to do that so I could go and finish my duties…”
Lexa sighed and rubbed her palms against her jeans. “Again, Katrine, I’m sorry that you got into trouble. I didn’t go far, just to the balcony and I didn’t intend for anyone to see me. I just needed to see something….” She gestured around the room, “…anything but these four walls again and again.”
Katrine remained silent.
“I honestly didn’t mean to upset anyone. I would never wish for you to be reprimanded for my mistake. You’ve been so kind to me. Perhaps I could talk to him, explain it wasn’t your fault and….”
That finally made Katrine’s head spin around quickly.
“No!” she almost screamed, then suddenly calmed herself into her usual soft tone, “please, it is over with, so do not speak on my behalf.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want.”
“Yes.” She came and took Lexa’s tray and without another word, headed for the door.
But Lexa couldn't let it go like this.
“Katrine?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for everything. You’ve been a very kind friend; I shouldn’t have ever betrayed your trust.”
Katrine left the room without a verbal reply, but with a relieved smile.
And to Lexa, it was close enough.
________________________________________
Although still wracked with the annoying scratchy throat, Lexa’s energy level was increasing by the hour, and with it, her claustrophobia. It was her fifth trip to sit by the window, watching the snow fall in big puffy balls, illuminated by the same moonlight that danced over the frozen river. It was beautiful, but even sometimes paradise itself can be maddening if that’s all you see.
Just after
And alone.
She really hated being both. She wished Katrine would return, at least then they could talk. Maybe there was a board game, or at least a deck of cards. Anything but being by herself.
But, she wasn’t alone.
Erik had come in through a side panel in the wall near the fireplace, a secret passageway he’d built in years ago, in case he needed it.
And tonight, he needed it.
But if there was one thing he didn’t need, it was the light from the lamp. Who knows how much she saw of him earlier that day. He wouldn’t risk that again. Yes, he desired to see Lexa this last time before he had her taken back to her car, but it had to be in darkness. He reached back inside the wall panel and with a quick flick, cut the circuit to the room.
Lexa gasped, then almost simultaneously let out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t tell me the power went out…that’s all I freaking need now.”
“Do not be alarmed, the power will return soon.” His voice floated out of the darkness, softly.
But not soft enough.
Lexa jumped with a small squeal, clutching her heart, then groaned. “Don’t you know how to knock?”
He gave a soft laugh. “It’s my home, I don’t need to.”
She gave a half hearted snort at the general direction of the voice, “Fine, but at least make some noise next time.”
Next time…he groaned silently…there won’t be a next time….
“My apologies. You
appear to be much better this evening,” he momentarily paused, fighting to say
her name, his lips dying to form the syllables, “Lexa.” My
Lexa…
“Yes, I’m feeling better, just a bit bored I suppose.” Truly she wasn’t upset. In fact, she was happy to have someone, anyone to talk to, but especially the man whose voice was so deep, even if it was so seemingly detached, except now. Tonight it was kinder, more soothing.
And the way he just said her name. Did she just feel a chill?
“Understandable, given the circumstances. I apologize that I have nothing to offer you in the form of entertainment.”
“It’s okay, I guess I could read a book maybe.” She gestured toward a bookcase on the wall to her left.
“I have many fine books; please feel free to choose what you wish.”
“When the power returns, that is.” She gave a half hearted chuckle. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that he’d cut the power off himself. And she knew why.
“Of course. Did you enjoy your dinner?”
“Yes, I did, thanks.” She smiled in the dark, sure he couldn't see it, but she made the effort just the same. “I venture you aren’t used to cooking for many people.”
But Erik could see the smile. He could see everything in the dark, his eyes were sharper than most. He inched closer, quietly. “I suppose I am only used to cooking for just myself and Katrine. Darren has dinner here a few times when work runs late, but that is all.”
She detected him coming closer and her heart skipped a beat. Was she scared? Or perhaps she was excited? Hard to tell, both emotions often caused the same reaction.
She gave a soft cough to help her heart settle and give her the courage to bring up the matter of her earlier snooping. “Umm…about earlier today.”
He began to wring his hands, thankful she couldn't see that in the darkness, “How much did you see?” he blurted out.
“See? Well…I saw the interior of the house, it’s all very open and…”
“No, Lexa. How much did you see of me?” his voice was more insistent and had turned slightly hoarse.
“Oh.” She paused as she tried to decide exactly how to proceed. He’d been kind enough to take her in, to feed her, give her a place to sleep and medicine to help her recover, so for the sake of morality, she should repay him with her honesty, yet could she tell him that she’d seen the mask? She was sure that was why he’d always seen her in the dark and why he’d insisted to Katrine that she stay in her room. No matter what, it was apparent he didn’t want to be identified. The reasons for such secrecy could be anything from the witness protection program to him being the new Jack the Ripper, but truly, as grateful as she was, it didn’t matter.
Morality be damned, she’d have to lie. “It was rather dim, so I only made out a little bit of you, I saw you were tall, with dark hair. That’s all I assure you.” There, she’d done it.
The relief that came from Erik was almost palpable and Lexa realized she’d made the right choice.
“I apologize for not following Katrine’s instruction; I hope you weren’t too harsh with her. She’d told me to come straight back to my room and I gave her my word she could go on and clean while I showered. It was my fault, not hers.”
“Commendable that you would stand up for her like that.” His voice glided around her and she could tell he was moving even closer to where she sat in the chair by the window. Now she could detect just a touch of a French accent, although he kept it an even tone.
“Nothing commendable, simply telling the truth.”
“No need for you to be concerned with how I treat my employees, Lexa.”
“I know, but, she was so upset and…”
“It was between me and Katrine, and I consider the matter closed.” His voice made a sharp, deeper dip. A tone of finality and although she didn’t know this man very well…actually, hardly at all…something told her it was best not to question it any longer.
“Okay. Well, I suppose…” she tried to glide off and change the subject, “now that I’m feeling better, I’ll be taken back to my car tomorrow?”
“Yes. I feel you are well enough to withstand the cold temperatures long enough to be found by the authorities.”
“Again, thank you for your hospitality and for helping me get better.”
“You are welcome, Lexa.”
“Perhaps there is a way I can repay the debt?” she leaned out of her chair, trying to get even closer to the voice, then she groaned, realizing what that might have sounded like to him. “I mean once I leave here, of course…”
He finally settled on one knee next to the rocking chair, careful to avoid the little bit of moonlight, thankful it was not brighter, “No need to repay the debt, other than not speaking of my whereabouts to anyone. Bringing you here was a great risk to me being discovered. I simply prefer to remain…well, alone.”
Her skin tingled and she knew he was right beside her. Hell, she could almost feel his breath on her cheek!
“Uh…yes,” she stammered. “I can do that, if that’s what you want. Are you sure that’s all I can do? I mean, you didn’t have to do all that you’ve done for me…”
“I think you know by now, Lexa, that is not true.” he replied quickly.
“I guess you’re right.”
“Hopefully in the future, you will heed weather warnings more closely.” He chided very softly, his voice turning gentle.
That was all that was gentle about Erik at that moment. Her washed, but un-perfumed scent surrounded him again and instantaneously, he could feel his body trying to yield, to change, to alter its physical state. He could have almost cried out at that point if he thought it would help, cried out for her to help him, but he knew nothing she could do would help him. No one can help.
“Have you lived here long?” she asked him after another long pause had become agonizing. It was either ask a silly question or scream talk to me! at the top of her lungs.
“About sixteen years, I built this house. It’s my retreat, my sanctuary.”
My escape.
“It’s a lovely house, at least judging by what little bit I saw earlier today. I’ve always loved high ceiling homes, the wood is just beautiful, the craftsmanship…”
“Thank you…” his voice drifted off again as he fought another surge of his body. He wanted desperately to be closer to her, to inhale more of her scent, to kiss her, but that was impossible. There would be no way to stop himself and then, God help him.
God help her.
Time was running out, he had to get her out of there and fast. When he finally steeled his body enough to reach for her, the touch of his hand on her arm shocked them both.
“Let me help you to bed.” He said softly.
She squinted in hopes of viewing something, anything. Hard to see. But easy to feel. His hand on her arm was soothing and warm, very warm.
“I’m not sleepy.”
He pulled her up from the chair, lifting her into his arms before she could utter another protest and said, “You will be shortly,” as he walked over and laid her down on the bed.
“What do you mean?”
He let her lay still, but kept one hand on hers for comfort, although inside it killed him. With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe that contained morphine. He surmised she was not used to having morphine, so it would put her under just enough that she wouldn’t protest being moved out to her car. It would relax her, make her forget.
It would put her in a dangerously vulnerable state if he knew Darren wasn’t waiting outside the door.
Without a word of warning, he slipped off the cap from the needle and popped it in her arm.
She gasped and tried to sit up. “What did you do to me?” she almost screamed.
He pushed her down gently, “Easy now, it’s just so you can relax and sleep. When you wake up, you’ll be in the safety of your own home, I promise.”
“But wait, what was that? You had no right to….” Her voice slowed and she felt a sudden, harsh dizziness. With a flop, she ended up back on the bed.
He drugged me? Shit.
“But…” she tried to speak, knowing she didn’t have long before she’d be out like a light. Strangely enough, she didn’t feel threatened, just surprised and a bit ticked that he didn’t give her fair warning. Not that it would have helped, however, considering she was deathly afraid of needles and would have protested. “I didn’t even get…your…name…”
He smiled down at her and he couldn't help but stroke her cheek. She was leaving. He wouldn’t see her again. The thought almost destroyed him, but it was necessary. So yes, he could tell her at least that much, even though he was pretty sure she wouldn’t remember it when she woke up. In fact, he could spill out his heart and she wouldn’t know anything different.
Good, I’d rather her
not remember anything…
So, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Lexa, on the other hand, could only moan as the room swirled, light danced before her eyes and her body felt heavy, disconnected.
Then the last words she heard as she drifted away were…
My name is Erik Renault…
…and we are one.
Chapter Six:
Lexa woke to find herself in the backseat of her car, wrapped in her coat, her hat tight around her ears, the scarf around her nose and mouth. Sirens blazed outside, the lights shining brightly in the dark. She sat up, groggy, dizzy, confused, and very cold. What had happened? Where was she? She lifted the flashlight in her hand and tried it.
It worked, but barely.
She checked her watch.
Everything slowly came back. The car battery…dead. The engine….dead. The radio warning of a blizzard…cold, bitter cold….
…leaving the car…the blinding snow…confusion, then…darkness.
Now, sirens.
“Finally...” she uttered, noticing her throat was a bit sore. No doubt from the cold, she figured. She shivered as she tried to wipe the fog off the glass to see outside. A pile of deep snow reached at least half way up the window.
God how hard had the snow fallen since she’d been there?
“Miss Gordon?” A man screamed into the car. She could see two gloved hands digging furiously at the snow bank to get to her.
She banged on the glass and attempted to scream back, “Yes! Help me!” but the effort to raise her voice hurt terribly.
“Stay tight, we’ll have you out shortly!” The fireman ran for his equipment as more vehicles pulled up, their sirens equally blaring, their lights blinding.
Within a half hour, she was successfully pulled from the car amid even more noise and confusion and put into an ambulance with all the speed that could be mustered. She was exhausted; she slept here and there, hearing the people around her talk.
Amazing, they all said. A miracle she survived. She didn’t understand what the big deal was. She’d only been out there a few hours at the most, nothing to panic over, right?
Only then did the black hummer, that had remained shielded behind a snow bank a quarter mile down the road, finally drive away.
________________________________________
“Monsieur?” Darren knocked calmly on the library door once he’d returned to the cabin, dusting off the snow from his coat and shaking it from his boots.
Erik stood from the couch, dropping the book he was reading, and in walking away, said, “Enter.” He stood in the shadows of the night darkened corner and waited for Darren to open the door.
Darren was used to the routine. Monsieur Renault seemed to enjoy the darkness and always kept the shades down everywhere except his office, even in daylight, never lighting more lamps than necessary to see the papers he was signing or the books he was reading. Rarely had Darren entered the library that there had not been some type of music playing. Mostly classical piano, but often he heard the grand strains of symphonic orchestras. It was this very symphonic orchestra that he was hearing as he came in. As on cue, he simply walked over to the coffee table that sat in front of the couch and waited to be allowed to sit.
“Good evening Darren.” Erik spoke from behind the bar at the far end of the library. “You’ve had a busy night, let me fix you a drink.”
Darren nodded politely, “Thank you, Monsieur,” and took it as an invitation to sit. He could hear the clanking of the glass as ice was added. Vodka, on the rocks, Russian. His usual. “What is playing this evening?” he referred to the symphonic music he’d not heard previously.
Erik came up behind Darren on the couch and handed him his drink over his left shoulder. Darren nodded and Erik walked over to his tall arm chair that sat opposite the couch. “It is the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra’s performance from last fall. Is it to you liking?” he replied as he sat down and reclined back.
Darren never liked to lie and Erik knew he was not a fan of symphonic music, but he smiled and replied, “It is very nice.”
“Was she found?” Erik then asked, his tone dropping. Small talk was over. Darren leaned back, took a sip of his vodka and let out a relaxing sigh, which caused Erik to smile, yet Darren failed to notice it behind his glass.
“Yes, Monsieur. I did as you instructed, I called in your favor with the police, told them where she was and they did the rest. I stayed another hour until she was pulled from the car, then returned here.”
“Did she appear to remember anything?”
“She was still unconscious when I put her in the car, and she appeared confused and disoriented, but she was speaking when they rescued her, still groggy from the morphine, I suspect, Monsieur.”
Erik nodded, drawing in another breath. “Now, tell me about her.” His mind drifted away, shocked at his own sharp inquiry. He thought it would be over once he sent her away. What was he thinking? He saw the woman three times yet he was still determined to learn everything about her. But, deep down, he couldn't fool himself, he knew why. His hand clutched the side of the chair and it was only the clanking of the ice in Darren’s glass that brought him to his good senses, embarrassed that he’d let himself get so lost in thought. He cleared his throat.
Darren simply leaned forward and placed a yellow folder on the table in front of him.
Erik picked up the folder of
papers as if they were treasure. “This
was fast, I commend you.”
“It did not take long to compile
it from the information on her driver’s license. My sources were reliable, they sent what they
had quickly, Monsieur, then I printed it out for you.”
“Hummm…Alexis
Alexandria Gordon…” he read off the first page.
“Age, thirty five. Good. Parents…Samuel Brice, deceased and Martha Ann
Gordon,
He nodded approvingly as he laid down the folder, stood and began to pace the room again, knowing his poor assistant knew nothing of why he inquired so much about one woman. Especially when it appeared he was so detached otherwise. “Anything else, anything other than what is in here?”
“Like what, Monsieur?”
“I knew she was not married, but perhaps…a mention of someone significant, someone she loves? Any children?”
Darren leaned forward and nodded, “Katrine did mention to me that she did not have any children, but she was briefly engaged a couple of months ago. A man named David Gramling, but that’s all she knew. She never mentioned another man.”
“Thank you for your diligence, this information is most acceptable.” He whispered.
“You are welcome. Will there be anything else, Monsieur?”
He paused, standing between the shaded window and the couch and Darren stretched his head behind to view his boss’ tall silhouette as he spoke, “No, I do not believe so. That is all until morning. It’s late. If you wish, you may sleep in the guestroom.”
“Yes, I shall do that.”
Nothing else came from Erik, as for a second time he lost himself, staring out the window at the falling snow.
With the glass empty and an eerie calm filling the room, Darren knew his cue to leave, which he did promptly, soundlessly, leaving Erik alone with his thoughts as the last of the symphonic music ended, leaving only silence in its place. Erik sat on the couch where Darren had once been, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands cradling his chin. Fingers tapped on the mask in rhythmic, evil degradation.
How will I be able to
keep my composure? How will I be able to get over her?
She was my undoing.
He groaned and corrected himself.
She always will be.
_________________________________________________
The hospital bed was warm and Lexa could hear the beeping of the heart monitor, could feel the scratch of the stiff hospital gown, the whispers of friends around her. And she wanted nothing of it.
“Why can’t I go home?” she muttered.
A round of gasps, then silence.
“Lexa….” A woman’s voice spoke and grabbed her hand.
She opened her eyes to see Tasha sitting by her bed. She looked rough. Her dark hair was in a ponytail, her tan face was pale, her amber eyes red and dark circled. It looked like she hadn’t seen a bed in months.
“Tash…you look terrible. You need sleep.”
But Tasha only laughed. “Good to have you back.”
Two others approached the bed. Bobby was the first. “You had us worried, kiddo!” he laughed, popping her arm playfully.
Zander, her boss at the magazine was next to speak, “Good to see you doing so well, Lexa, we all miss you at work.”
She narrowed her eyes and studied everyone. What were they talking about?
“Christ, you guys…you all act like you haven’t seen me in a week.”
Everyone paused, their gazes shifting from one to another. Tasha looked at a man standing on the other side of the room. The man, who Lexa didn’t recognize, nodded knowingly back at her.
“Tash?”
“Oh, sorry…this is Dr. Burns.”
Lexa raised her hand and waved. Dr. Burns waved back politely and said, “Nice to meet you, Miss Gordon.”
“Bobby, Zander….could you excuse us?” Tasha asked the men and they nodded to her before patting Lexa on the arm again.”
“We’ll go to the cafeteria and get some coffee, Tash…” Bobby said.
She smiled and nodded as they left the room. The doctor remained.
“Lexa?” Tasha asked cautiously after the door to her room shut, “Do you know what day it is?”
“Well yeah, it’s Saturday morning, right…Saturday the 6th?”
“No…it’s not Saturday, sweetie…it’s Thursday, the 11th. You were found last night, Wednesday night.”
“What?” she answered, trying to sit up. “Impossible. I couldn’t have been in the car for…” she groaned as her head spun, “…five days.”
“Well, you were, Miss Gordon.” Dr. Burns piped up, approaching her bed. “It’s a miracle, but you survived.”
Miracle…that word
again.
“No food…no water…you aren’t dehydrated or malnourished in any way. You don’t remember anything?”
“No, just remember walking around outside…the cold…passing out, then I woke up when the rescuers came.”
“You passed out, outside the car?” Dr. Burns asked her.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”
“How did you come to be back in the car, then?” Tasha interrupted.
She shrugged. “I don’t know, I must not remember going back to the car.”
Dr. Burns held out her chart. “Miss Gordon, are you on any medications?”
Lexa shook her head.
“Nothing for pain…?”
Exasperated and wanting to sleep again, she said firmly, “No.”
“Why do you ask?” Tasha asked him.
“Because, Miss Miller, Miss Gordon’s lab results came back…she has morphine in her system.”
Lexa’s eyes widened.
“Morphine?” Tasha looked over at Lexa. “How would you get a hold of that?”
“I don’t know.”
Dr. Burns showed Lexa the chart. “And your white cell count is elevated. Nothing unusual, given your situation, so we ran the standard tests and did a chest x-ray. It shows the remnants of what was a rather severe lung infection. Your glands are a bit swollen, and we swabbed your throat…you are also recovering from strep throat. Is your throat sore?”
She nodded, it was sore, not horribly so, but it stung to swallow. She let it sink in. Lung infection…strep throat…how…?
“That’s insane… recovering?” Tasha said.
“Yes, we’ve run blood work three times now, the blood cell count is decreasing, most unusual…there would be no way for her body to fight that in a car for five nights. Not without medicinal help. The fever alone would have surely killed her.”
“Were there any antibiotics in her blood work?”
“None.”
“Are you going to give her any?”
“No, I see no need unless her white cell count goes up again. We’re keeping it monitored. As far as I can see, there is no reason she couldn't go home tomorrow. Just…most unusual, if I say so myself.”
Both Dr. Burns and Tasha looked Lexa’s way, as if she suddenly had answers.
“What?” she said irritably. “I told you both all I know.”
“Okay, okay…just rest. Tomorrow I’ll take you home.”
“Finally…” Lexa muttered as she closed her eyes again.