After Midnight (10 page)

Only minutes later, as she rowed furiously, she heard a scraping sound and felt the rowboat ride up in the sand.

"I have waited for ye, my sweetness."

She knew it was Gordon, of course, even before she turned around. She'd been foolish to wonder how she would find him.

"I knew you would come. Even this clever plot to sequester me would not work."

She felt his hand unclenching hers from the oar, and he raised her from the plank seat. The sky was dark and yet there was a light that came from somewhere. Him?

Emily trembled from head to foot, her teeth chattering as he led her up onto the shore. She was so afraid, and yet she knew this was what she had to do. She knew it was the only chance to save him… save herself now.

"Why did it take you so long, my sweetness?" His husky voice curled around her nerves, relaxing her, calming her. "I've waited for ye for an eternity." He chuckled deep in his throat, a laughter that seemed not his own, but someone else's.

Emily could not respond, but it seemed of little consequence to him.

"This way, out of the wind. Ye are so cold, Emily. Let me warm ye." Gordon slipped his arms around her, drawing her into his cloak. It was so warm with her body next to his. Heat emanated from his body as if he were a flame.

"There, there, are ye warmer now?" He turned her in his arms so that she faced him, wrapped inside his wool cloak. Behind the piling of rocks the size of the boat, there was no wind. Either the rain had stopped or the rocks were shielding them from it. All around Emily and Gordon there was still that strange glowing light that came from nowhere.

For an instant, just an instant, Emily rested her head on Gordon's chest. He was so warm and he smelled so good.

"I have waited for us to be alone like this," he whispered in her ear.

She shuddered as he pressed his lips to her cheek. She felt weak in the knees as his warmth spread to her limbs… to her loins.

"Make love with me, Emily." He caressed her hip, her thigh, molding his own hard, muscular body to hers. "Love me. Love me."

Her eyes drifted shut of their own accord. The storm around them subsided. There was nothing but the two of them now, the two of them and eternity…

"I do love you, " she breathed, trembling, aching. "I do love you."

He cupped her breast and through the wet fabric of her blouse and underclothing, she could feel the heat of his hand, the heat of his desire for her. Burning. Burning as it was in her.

Emily moaned softly. She was warm now, as warm as if she were sunbathing on the beach on a summer day. The glorious light surrounded them, washing away her fears.

Why had she been afraid of Gordon? He only wanted to love her… to make love to her.

Gordon lifted her off the ground and Emily looped her arms around his neck. "Aye?" he whispered huskily. He was kissing her. Her cheek, the bridge of her nose, her lips… the pulse of her throat.

"Aye, you will love me? Love me forever, Emily?"

It was not Gordon's husky, sensual voice she heard this time, but someone else's. Someone evil. Her eyes flickered open in sudden fear.

Gordon stared into her eyes, his face gaunt, his lips drawn back. The fangs were clearly visible.

"There will be no pain." His voice was so mesmerizing that she believed him. "No pain, only… pleasure."

Emily's eyes felt heavy. Against her will, she could feel herself relaxing in his arms, lowering her head, exposing the soft white flesh of her neck.

"Emily…"

She felt the warm brush of his mouth on the pulse of her throat, then a sudden coldness.

"No!" she screamed, startling them both. Her eyes flew open.

This was it. This was the moment.

Her gaze met Gordon's and she was filled with icy fear. This was not the Gordon she loved… this was Satan. Satan had captured her love and taken him…

Emily wanted him back.

She grasped his cold face between her shaking hands and brought her mouth to his. She kissed his cold lips, her lips brushing the ivory fangs.

Gordon cried out in pain, as if her mouth had burned his, and sank to his knees taking her with him. Emily screamed as she fell in the wet sand. As she hit the ground, she rolled away from Gordon, terrified.

She sat up on her knees, dragging the wet hair from her face so that she could see him. The eerie light was fading as Gordon faded. She watched in horrified awe as he curled into a fetal position, his cloak covering him entirely.

"Gordon! Gordon!" she cried. But she didn't dare approach him. Not yet.

He made groaning, whimpering sounds as he seemed to grow small under the cloak. He was disappearing. There no longer seemed to be anyone beneath the cloak.

Hot tears ran down her cheeks. She was shivering again. "What have I done? What have I done?" she moaned.

Emily squeezed her eyes shut, clutched her cold hands, and prayed fervently. "Let him be all right. Let him live."

She made herself open her eyes.

It was dark now. The light was gone. But so was the wind, the rain. Behind her, the seas had calmed. In confusion she stared up at the sky that had been dark and swirling only moments before.

Before her eyes, bright pinpricks of stars appeared in the dark canopy of the night sky. Pale moonlight was just beginning to seep from behind the clouds. The moonlight fell… on Gordon's cloak.

She rose. "Gordon? Gordon, can you hear me?"

Once again there was someone beneath the cloak. She fell to her knees beside it. But who? What if she had not saved Gordon, but saved the demon?

"Gordon?" It took every fiber of nerve she possessed to pull back the cloak.

"E. Bruce MacDougal, is that ye?" It was Gordon's voice. Gordon's humor.

"Oh, you're all right!" She threw her arms around him, not caring what he looked like or whose body he possessed. What mattered was that it was him. "Oh, you're all right!" She clasped his face between her sandy, wet hands and covered it with kisses.

Gordon grasped her by the waist and pulled her down beside him. "This is rather pleasing attention." He kissed her on the lips. "But could you tell a confused Scotsman what's happened?" He glanced around. "And where are we?"

"You don't remember?"

"I remember breakfast. Fish, biscuits with a little jam."

She laughed. This was Gordon. Her Gordon.

She quickly recounted the tale to the point of her arrival on the island. Gordon held her hands tightly in his.

"Ye shouldna have come, my sweetness. You shouldna risked your life for me. Do ye know what would have happened if ye failed? Do ye understand what I would have done to ye? At best killed ye. At worst… taken your soul?"

She grinned. "But I didn't fail. And now you're a mortal just like me. You'll grow old and wrinkled. We'll grow old together."

He lifted his hand to his lips and kissed it. "So what was the answer?" His green eyes had turned dark brown again. The fangs were gone. He was his handsome self again. "Tell me."

She knew her cheeks colored. She could feel the warmth of embarrassment spreading. But she did not look away. She held his gaze in hers: "The voluntary kiss of a virgin at the moment of her death."

He stared in amazement. "You saved me with your kiss?"

"My virginal kiss." A smile twitched on her lips. "See that. I told Ruth I was saving myself for something special."

Fraser Castle

Two Years Later

"Gordon?"

"In the library," he called.

Emily followed the corridor, her high-button shoes clip-clapping on the slate-tiled floor. She checked the pocket watch that dangled on a chain and rested inside her skirt pocket. "Gordon, the book has arrived on the mail steamer." She entered the cluttered room to find her husband perched on the library ladder, his back to her. He was replacing books on one of the high shelves. "I thought I'd get right to work on the repairs. So could you look after Isabella when she wakes from her nap?"

"Aye." Gordon turned.

Emily gasped and brought her hands to her face, her heart tripping. "Gordon," she breathed.

He smiled handsomely, baring long white fangs. "Aye, love?"

"Gordon, are you all right?"

He climbed down the ladder, seemingly unaware of his transformation. "Aye, why do ye ask?"

She touched her lips with two fingers. Her heart was pounding, but she knew she had to remain calm. Surely there was an explanation for the fangs. Gordon was now entirely mortal. He was no longer a vampire, she was certain of it. "Your teeth. Gordon, you… you've grown fangs."

He touched his own teeth and then gasped so dramatically that Emily was immediately suspicious. Was he playing some sort of prank on her?

"Ods fish! I
have
grown fangs." He wiggled his eyebrows, feigning a sinister laugh. "Come here then, my pretty, and let me sample your sweet, hot blood."

She thrust out her arms and struck him hard in the chest. "That's not funny!" She tried hard not to laugh. Her heart was still pounding. "You scared me half to death. I thought you were turning into a vampire again."

"Aye, 'twould be a great problem, wouldn't it, as there's no longer any virgins on hand."

She lowered her hands to her hips, attempting to appear unamused. "Ha, ha. Very funny." It really was funny, but she didn't want to encourage him too much, else this would lead to an entire string of vampire practical jokes.

He pointed a finger. "Had ye for a minute, didn't I, E. Bruce?"

She playfully bit the offending finger. "Didna."

"Did, too."

She squinted, getting a closer look at his fake fangs. "How did you do that?"

He walked to the desk and picked up a candle. "Some melted wax."

She peered over his shoulder. "You just softened it, formed them with your fingers, and attached them to your own teeth?"

"Aye." He rolled a ball of wax between his fingers, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement. "Want to try a set of your own?"

There wasn't a day in Gordon's life since his "rescue" from damnation that he didn't make the most of that day. He had to be the happiest mortal man on earth, and Emily knew she was the happiest woman on earth to have Gordon to love, and be loved by.

Emily chuckled. "I really should get to work on those repairs."

"Come, lass. It will be fun."

A few minutes later, Ruth called Emily's name from down the hall.

"In here!" Emily hollered, laughing with her husband. "We're in the library."

"Look who I found wide awake in—" Ruth halted in the doorway, little red-haired Isabella perched on her hip. "What do you think you're doing?" Ruth stared. "What is that on your teeth?"

Emily circled Ruth, her new fangs bared. "Turn over the child," she said in her best vampire's voice. "And perhaps I'll not drain every drop of blood from your wee body."

Ruth grimaced, turning in a circle, clutching the baby to her.

Isabella laughed at her mother and clapped her hands merrily, enjoying the game.

"You two are really sick, you know that?" Ruth scolded. "I told Angus after we married that we should have seriously considered that move to Paris. If I could get him off this island, I think I'd go now."