Resurrection (13 page)

He used to love to watch her move around his castle, instructing servants, inspecting the linens, collecting herbs and flowers. She had an imperious way of carrying herself, her chin up, her spine stiff, but he recognised the vulnerability beneath the prickly façade. From the distance of half a millennium and benefitting from those centuries of experience he could acknowledge that back then he had looked at a woman, but he never ceased to see a small, frightened girl. The same little girl who had pleaded not to be wed to him, who had delayed the inevitable for as long as she might, seeking a haven in the hall of his northern overlord until she could put off the evil day no longer. Even when Jane arrived at Roseworth, biddable and compliant, he could not bring himself to despoil the innocent child he had married.

He had no option but to consummate their marriage eventually, and he smiled now as he remembered the circumstances. The little brat all but challenged him to do it, and he was never going to let that pass. So he took her virginity, right after spanking her until her bottom glowed all shades of red. He was quick about it though, and Jane had appeared relieved at his consideration. He resolved not to make unnecessary demands on his sweet little bride. A man such as he needed heirs, and he did what was necessary, no more.

As for the rest, for bedsport proper, he was surrounded by women perfectly happy to do his bidding. He had been spanking his bedmates since he was fourteen years old, and none had ever complained. Not a cruel man by nature, he nevertheless knew what he liked, and he could divine what his companions might enjoy too. Gerard of Roseworth had been an inventive, generous and dominant lover to countless females. His dalliances were mutually rewarding, and his bye blows cared for—if he knew of them.

It had nothing to do with his marriage and Jane had no cause for complaint. Indeed, she did not offer any as far as he could recall. Theirs had been a peaceful, if unexciting, union.

Would she be content to continue in that vein? More to the point, would he?

*****

Ged went back upstairs, entering the spare bedroom as quietly as he was able. Jane's eyes were closed, but they flew open as soon as he crossed the room to stand beside the bed. He could see she'd been crying again

"It is gone? All gone? Everyone? Is there no one left?" Her voice was little more than a whimper. Her near-palpable despair wrenched something deep within him, tugging on heart-strings he had thought long gone.

"I'm sorry." It was little enough, but all he had for her.

She gripped the duvet under her chin, peering at him through spiky lashes. Somehow, this time, he didn't think it was him she feared.

"Was that the truth? Those things you told me earlier?"

Ged frowned, trying to recall just what he had said.

"Is it really two thousand and... what was the date you mentioned?"

"Ah. Two thousand and thirteen. Yes, that is the year now." He regarded her with concern. "It's January," he added, uselessly.

"It was the summer then. Before..."

"I know. I remember it, I think—that night you disappeared. It was August, fourteen eighty five. You had just heard the news of Richard's defeat, and you were upset by it."

Ged settled on the bed beside her, and she shifted to make space before turning to lean on his arm. On impulse he draped it across her shoulders to pull her closer. "You rushed off, out into the night. I had men out searching for you. We scoured the area for months, but found no trace, nothing at all."

"I am sorry, I should not have... I went as far as the lake, that is all. I was on my way back when I slipped and fell into the water. I was coming to talk to you."

"It doesn't matter now. It was a long time ago. I knew how devoted you were to Richard and to the House of York, so I thought..." He hesitated, uncertain if he should voice the fear which had haunted him since that dreadful day.

"What did you think, my lord?"

He ought to correct the form of address, but he let it go this time. "I thought you might have done yourself harm."

"You believed I had killed myself?" Her expression now was incredulous. "But, that would have been a mortal sin. Why would you believe such wickedness of me?"

"You’d had a shock, suffered a grievous personal loss, and suddenly you were gone. I didn't want to think that, but as the months passed with no word, I began to wonder."

"I would never have done such a heinous thing."

“
Garrick reported that you were shocked by the tidings from Bosworth, deeply upset. It was an explanation..."

"Garrick? Did he live, then?"

Ged shook his head. "No, not for long as I recall."

"I... I am sorry. He was a good man. I know that he had your trust."

"He was a fine soldier, that's true." In fact, Ged struggled to recall Garrick's features after all this time, but he had no doubt the man had died bravely and in the service of his King. "It was...all so long ago."

"I... I know that." He glanced down to see tears glistening in her eyes again. Her voice shook as she spoke. "Where have I been for all this time, until now?"

Ged had no ready answer for that, at least not until he heard from Serena again. Until he did, he preferred to dwell on those things he could control. "Search me. What matters is, you
are
here now. We need to work out where we go from here."

Jane sat upright, her expression startled. "I do not wish to go from here. This is my home. It is where I belong and you cannot send me away."

"No, I didn't mean that. I mean, what are we going to do? About your future?"

"My future? I do not understand."

"Well, here you are, so we have to assume that here's where you'll stay. Here in this time. So, what are you going to do next?"

"But, I cannot remain here. I must return to... to..." She abandoned the quest for words to describe her plight. She met his gaze once more. "And you too, surely. You are as much out of place in this time as am I."

Ged stiffened, a reaction not lost on Jane.

"Except, you are not, are you? You appear to be quite at home among these fantastic objects, in this strange dwelling." She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious suddenly. "How can that be? How do you know so much of this time in our distant future? Have you been here for a long while? Did you slip between the centuries also?"

He tightened his hold on her when she would have wriggled away. "Jane, I said earlier that we need to talk. Now is as good a time as any."

"Very well, my lord. I am listening."

It was a tale Ged had only recounted on rare occasions. It was not in the nature of vampires to share their stories with others not of their kind, and Ged struggled to find the words. He opted to commence by addressing Jane's own questions.

"You asked if I've been here for a long time, since I seem to be at home in this century."

She nodded, her eyes narrowing. "Yes, I did ask that."

"I have been here for a while, though unlike you I didn't travel across time to do it. The truth is, I have been alive since we last met. I am five hundred and sixty years old."

Now Jane did succeed in escaping his embrace. She knelt on the bed and gaped at him. "That cannot be true. You have not aged at all. Your hair is shorter, you are perhaps more solid across the shoulders, but you remain a young man."

"I am neither young, Jane, nor am I a man." There, it was out. Almost.

"But, you are. I can see that you are."

"I'm a vampire. You do know that, you saw my fangs."

She backed off, her eyes widening in disbelief. "I… I thought that perhaps I had imagined that... that monstrosity…. that it was but a conjuring of my mind, created out of my confusion and shock."

He shook his head. "It wasn't.
I
a
m
a vampire. Do you know what that is, Jane?" He couldn't recall what exactly was known of vampires in the fifteenth century.

"I have heard stories, ugly, diabolical tales of unearthly creatures of the night who feast on the blood of mortals. That is not you. It cannot be you."

He quirked his lip in a wry smile. "Sounds about right, actually. Well, not the feasting part, we're more civilised these days. But we are immortal, to all intents and purposes, and we do prefer to avoid sunlight if possible. I was thirty two years of age when I was turned, a couple of years after your disappearance in fact, and I have not aged since then."

"That is impossible. All of God's creatures must wither and die eventually."

"I'm not talking about God's creatures. I'm telling you what it means to be a vampire."

She covered her ears and buried her face in the pillow. "I will not listen. This is sacrilege."

"No, it's not sacrilege. It's a simple fact. I can prove it to you if I have to."

"No, I do not wish to see those fangs again. Ever."

"Look at me, Jane."

"I will not."

"Jane, look at me," he repeated, though injecting that note of authority into his command this time.

It had the desired effect and she turned her face toward him.

Ged continued. "I suspect you'll have no choice about catching sight of my fangs if we're to spend any length of time together, but for now, how about this for evidence?" He disappeared without warning, to reappear at the foot of the bed.

Jane's head swiveled between the spot she last saw him, and his current position. She scrambled back against the headboard, her hands held out before her as though to ward him off.

"You are a sorcerer, or you are playing cruel tricks on me. This is ungodly..."

"Probably. I'm rather past worrying about that side of things, to be honest." He came to sit back on the bed beside her, though this time she made no move towards him. "Place your palm on your chest. Just there." He pointed to a spot just below her left breast. When she did not move he reached for her hand and pressed it to her body. "What do you feel?"

"I do not understand. What am I supposed to feel?"

"Tell me. Inside your own body, Jane, what do you feel?"

"My heart. It is beating."

He lifted one eyebrow, grinned at her. "Pounding, more like. I can hear it."

"You cannot," she breathed.

"Believe me, I can. We vampires are not exactly hard of hearing, another perk I suppose. Now, give me your hand."

"I will not."

"Do as I say, Jane." His voice had hardened again. It was deliberate, he would have her compliance. Ged held out his hand and waited until she placed hers in it, then he pressed her palm against his own chest. "What do you feel there?"

"I… I am not certain."

"Concentrate. What do you feel, Jane?"

She waited, her brow creasing. She looked up, met his steady azure gaze.

"I feel nothing."

"Check again, yourself, then me. Be sure, Jane."

She obeyed, shifting her palm from side to side on his chest as she sought to locate a heartbeat. At last she raised her eyes to his once more. "Nothing. I can feel no heartbeat."

He nodded. "That's right. I have no heartbeat. I suppose by the usual definitions, human definitions, I am not alive."

"You are a ghost?"

He chuckled. She seemed bent upon grasping at any explanation but the one he offered. "I am flesh and blood, like you. But my body has been altered. I am—different. You've seen some of it—my fangs, the fact that I don't age, the teleporting—"

"The what?"

"Sorry. The disappearing and reappearing somewhere else. It's a handy little trick, saves a fortune in petrol."

"I have no notion what you are talking about."

"No, I know you don't. I apologise." He paused for a few moments, considering how best to proceed. "It's all too much for you to take in. In fact, I think it's time I stopped telling you about myself, and stopped trying to convince you this is the twenty-first century. It's time I started to show you instead. I seem to remember I promised you a shopping trip. Are you up for that?"

"I... do not think—"

"I do. Come on. We're going out."

He grabbed her hand and tugged her from the bed. She still wore his over-sized red T shirt and the smallest pair of jeans he'd been able to find. The makeshift outfit swamped her but Ged thought she looked adorable. And utterly fuckable, though that would have to wait. He loved the way she looked in his clothes but, some stuff of her own wouldn't go amiss. He headed for the bedroom door, towing his reluctant companion behind him.

"Where are you taking me? I do not wish to go anywhere. I prefer to remain here."

"Not happening. You'll love this, I promise." He hoped he was right. What he had in mind would either delight her, or send her into a complete meltdown. He offered up thanks to a God he had not believed in for almost as long as he could remember, for late night shopping malls.

"But, where—?"

"Edinburgh." It was the closest major city to Roseworth, and the Ocean Terminal Shopping Centre overlooking the waterfront was exactly what he needed to demonstrate the wonders of this age. They could browse the shops, choose some things for her. Then they could eat—or she could. They might even take in a movie. He wondered if 3D might be going just a touch too far, at least for her first excursion into the twenty-first century. They had reached the kitchen and he handed her the trainers he'd dug out, again the smallest he could lay his hands on but far too big for her.