(It's time for my annual-adjacent dusting off of my blo...
(It's time for my annual-adjacent dusting off of my blog to share something for the holidays. The Hunt was inspired by a prompt from a post on the Small but Mighty MM Romance Group on Facebook. I hope you'll have as much fun with it as I did. It's a vampire's Christmas!! Hope you all have a wonderful holiday, however you choose to celebrate.)
I’ve been celebrating Christmas since the time when wekilled a wren and burned a log for twelve days; since the child born that nightwas called Mithras; and since the Wild Hunt rode.
The Hunt still has a role to play, but in this world whereelectric lights turn night into day and telegraphs transmit words around theglobe as fast as thought, the ghosts of the past have been reduced to mereshadows.
I, too, am a ghost from the past, albeit a more corporealspecter. So long as I taste human blood and avoid the sun, I will carry on. Why?Because I can and because someone must. As long as one soul remembers the oldways, they will live on.
I’d settled on the Cornish coast, where blustery windscaress the moors and the sea crashes into jagged rock. My home had once been aknight’s stronghold. Its battlements appealed to me, a fearsome face to guardthe comforts within.
And this is a most comfortable space. My companions – they’dbeen with me so long they were more than hired help – have seen to everydetail. Terese brought the role of housekeeper to unimagined heights, while Dom’sability to make magic out of wood and nails had served me more than well.
But, as these things go, Dom had passed on. I sent hisgrieving widow to their daughter’s house for a time. That left me alone,rattling around this pile of stone, albeit one with electric lights and runningwater and a library fit for a king. I’d tried to send Duke with her, the houndwho’d followed Dom like a four-legged shadow, but she’d insisted the dog staywith me.
I could manage on my own for a few days, well, me and Duke together,and when it came time for Dom to join the Hunt, I would be here to wish himwell.
I rose at sunset and, after a cursory bath, I settled in mystudy. I had invested many hours transcribing notes left by the alchemist Marythe Hebrew from their original Arabic into something modern scholars could comprehend.It bothered me no end to allow knowledge to fade into obscurity, and tasks likethis gave me something with which to fill the endless hours of the night.
My study had a single electric lamp and a pair of oil sconceson the wall behind my desk. A bookcase held only such resources as would be requiredfor this project, and Duke lay curled on the woolen rug nearby. Pens and a vialof ink sat at my right hand, and a sheath of good quality paper at my left. Thedocument I worked from was an ancient parchment, obtained through channels I’d spentyears cultivating. I did not begrudge the ink stains on my fingers, nor the knotgrowing between my shoulders. The work was all the more satisfying for beingdifficult. On this night of all nights, it gave meaning to my very existence.
Duke and I noticed the change at the same time. A whiff ofsomething new, some note of freshness mingled with the metallic scent of ink. Ilifted my head even as the dog lifted his, and I let go of the phrase I’d beenparsing, allowing my mind to drift. There. A noise. The dog shuffled tohis feet.
“What is it?”
Duke glanced at me over his shoulder, a quick reassurancebefore he went off to explore. He’d never treat me with the affection he gaveDom and Terese, but we’d reached an accord. For a dog of few words, his bigbrown eyes could be eloquent.
His nails clicked on the mahogany floor and I returned myattention to the parchment. He’d alert me to anything amiss.
Untangling the next phrase absorbed me completely. A sharp wooffrom Duke, however, made me jump to my feet, sending a spray of ink from mypen. Without taking the time to blot the ink, I followed the dog.
My study was on the ground floor, a small room off the greathall. The enormous room was lit by electric bulbs concealed in ornate sconces.I stood in the center of the floor, puzzled by a steady thump echoing off the dramaticallyhigh ceiling.
Thumping? What on earth?
I followed the noise, curiosity overriding everything else.I wasn’t afraid; it would take more than an odd noise to trigger fear in suchas me.
Following the sound to the rear of the room, I duckedthrough the small servant’s door. The thumping continued, and I moved acrossthe flagstones, as silent as a shadow.
I found the source of the sound in the kitchen. A young manknelt midst the shelves of crockery and the cold cast-iron stove. Duke sat infront of him, accepting pats and scratches, his tail beating a steady rhythm onthe floor.
For a moment I did nothing except to draw a curtain ofshadow around myself. The young man was maybe five and twenty years, and he hadthe look of one who’d been sleeping rough. His clothing was worn and dirty, thecap on his head doing a poor job of hiding a riot of curls. His spirit, though,sent an aura of clear light around him. And the warm, earthy, scent of hisblood made my mouth water.
While I didn’t celebrate the holiday in the modern sense, itoccurred to me that I’d rarely been given such a lovely gift.
At my age, I had little need to feed. Dom and Terese betweenthem had more than satisfied me, but we’d lost Dom and Terese was sure tofollow him soon. Perhaps it was time to expand our household once more.
No, I was getting ahead of myself. I knew nothing of this youngsoul, except for the angelic curve of his cheek and the kiss of gold in the scruffon his unshaven face. The affection with which he handled Duke made it clearthey’d met before. Who was he, this soiled cherubim?
Who was he, and why was he in my kitchen?
Releasing the shadows, I cleared my throat. The man froze,though Duke’s tail kept up its steady cadence.
“Who’s there?” His voice was richer and deeper than I expected,as intriguing as the rest of him.
I stepped forward, allowing myself to be seen. “I am.” ShouldI introduce myself? Perhaps, but Lord Randolph Paget, Marquess of Reading feltlike such a mouthful. “You can call me Rand.”
The man rose to his feet. Duke bumped his leg and he reacheddown, resting his hand on the dog’s head. “I didn’t know anyone would be here.Tessa said…”
“Hmm?”
He blinked, shaking his head. I could easily trap him with mygaze, but I hadn’t made the attempt. Interesting.
“You know Tessa? The housekeeper? I’ve helped her with a fewthings since her husband passed on, and she said…”
Again his voice drifted off, making me stifle a smile.Terese had indeed intended to give me a gift. My heart warmed at the thought. “What’syour name?”
Some of the color faded from his face. “Jones. William Jones.I go by Bill.”
“Well, William, it’s lovely to make your acquaintance. May Iask after your intention in coming here?”
He rubbed a palm over his mouth. “Nothing like what you’rethinking. I just”—he nodded in the direction of the stove—“thought I’d start abit of a fire.” He lifted a bag I hadn’t yet noticed. “Would you like some rabbitstew?”
His spirit was too clear, too pure to be harboring illintent. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to partake.” I allowed my gaze to wanderdown his body. His boots were as worn and dirty as the rest of him, though hispantalons did a lovely job of showing off his thick thighs.
He didn’t flinch. If anything, his breathing quickened. OhTerese, you’ve given me a gift indeed.
“But please, make yourself at home. I have plenty of spaceand would be grateful of the company.”
“Oh, I couldn’t…” He backed up a step, clutching his bag.
I fought the urge to command him. A gift must be freelygiven. “You couldn’t let me show you to one of our guest rooms, where you couldtake a proper bath and perhaps borrow a change of clothes?”
He shook his head. “No. Thank you, but I’m not fit for yourhospitality.”
“Where have you been sleeping?”
He dropped his gaze, this time ignoring Duke’s request for affection.“Your barn. The horses keep it warm enough.”
The urge to compel him grew stronger. Still, I resisted. “Whereare you from? Surely you haven’t been living in my barn for long.”
“Look, I appreciate your…”
I allowed the pause to go on a heartbeat too long. “If youcan’t tell me what it is you appreciate, I think you should stay until youfigure it out. Besides, the wild hunt rides tonight. Stay with me.”
“They say I killed a man.” He met my gaze with a suddenfrankness, as if inviting my rejection.
“Did you?”
His jaw tightened, the muscles in his angelic cheeksworking. “I’m not sure.”
I crossed the distance between us faster than he couldpossibly have seen. The touch of my finger on his chin made his eyes go wideenough to show the whites. “You did not. I’m sure of that, although it wouldn’tmatter either way.” I ran my thumb over his lower lip, boldly, rudely, and wasgratified when his nostrils flared. “I’ve killed many men, although none recently.”
His intoxicating mix of desire and fear threatened mycontrol. I stepped back, keeping my posture relaxed, amiable. “Now, leave the rabbithere and let me show you to your room.”
Wordlessly, he set the bag on the nearest counter. Dukewhined, scratching the cupboard beneath it. I laughed, and after a moment, sodid William.
“I’ll just put this higher,” he said, moving the bag to ashelf at eye level.
My smile may well have shown a hint of fang. “This way,please.”
I gave him the room closest to mine. Silly, really. I couldhave given him any room, knowing full well I had every intention of bringinghim to my own bed before the night was through. I’d never taken a lover whilethe Wild Hunt rode. The idea filled me with more excitement than I’d felt in years.
Hell, I hadn’t taken a lover of any kind in years. I had nopreference; men and women pleased me equally. Dom and Terese had taken care ofall my needs, at least until time slowed them to the point of disinterest. Dom becametoo frail, and while I still loved Terese’s body, softened as it was by timeand age, laying with me caused her more discomfort than pleasure.
This man, though, this William Jones who was called Bill? He’dgive me what I craved.
I showed him the bathroom, standing silently behind the doorwhile water splashed into the tub. He’d set the lock with a soft click. Ismiled and closed my eyes, allowing my mind to fill in what I could not see. Withoutthose rags, his shoulders would be broad, his chest firm. A scattering of goldenhair would make a trail from his chest to the darker curls around his manhood. Wouldhe be cut, or would his prick still have its soft hood of skin? My mouthwatered.
I should go back to the study while he bathed. I’d left theink uncapped, the page I’d been writing now spoiled. But I couldn’t bringmyself to leave.
With endless nights to fill, I could always start over onthe translation.
Using my power over the shadows, I obscured the door fromhis gaze and slipped inside the bathroom. He sighed, as if that tub full ofwarm water had taken him to heaven. Snatching up his trousers and shirt, I leftone of Dom’s older suits as a replacement. The old-fashioned garments were well-madeand would fit his broad frame. My excitement grew stronger.
A splash and a gurgle told me he’d risen from the water andwas draining the tub. I guessed that his sharp intake of breath meant he’d seenDom’s suit. Water splashed in the sink, and a very soft scrape hinted that hewas shaving. Oh, to be able to watch!
He caught me in a swoon, still standing in front of the doorwhen he flung it open. “The boots don’t fit.” He held them out to me, hisexpression unreadable.
They were a fine pair of kid boots with buttons up the side.Dom had rarely worn them, as he preferred sturdier fare. “Too small? Wait, I’llfind another pair.”
This time I brought him an older pair, one Dom preferred fordressier occasions. The black leather uppers laced up. Wordlessly I handed themto William. His expression still carefully blank, he thanked me and went intohis room.
Whereupon I stood where he left me, inhaling his warm, soapyscent. He might have tried to brush his hair back from his face, but his curls hadalready begun to escape. They framed his face in a soft golden halo.
When he didn’t reappear immediately, I ducked into my own room.I’d dressed for a night in the study, so with quick and practiced movements, Ichanged my collar and tied a fresh cravat. Instead of my plain waistcoat, I puton blue silk shot with silver threads. I tossed my ordinary jacket aside andput on one of fine wool. Regarding myself in the mirror, I gave a satisfiednod.
I would do.
I was still fastening my cufflinks on my way out the door.They were gold and pearl, and I almost dropped one when I found William waitingin the hall.
“Let me,” he said, gently clasping a hand around my wrist.Neither of us spoke while he slipped the peg through the holes in my cuff andscrewed the back into place.
“The other?” He took my hand, but that cufflink was alreadyin place. Still, I intertwined my fingers with his for the briefest moment.
“Sadly,” my voice was surprisingly gruff, “Terese isn’t hereto prepare your rabbit stew.”
He gestured toward himself. “I probably should have dressedthe rabbit before I dressed myself.”
We shared a smile. “I wonder if she left something in theice box.”
“I shouldn’t make myself any more beholden to you than I amalready.”
I gave a fairly inelegant snort. “Come with me.” Taking himby the elbow, I led him down the carpeted hall to the grand staircase that ledto the great room. We’d come up straight from the kitchen, so he hadn’t seen myhome at its best.
With a snap of my fingers, the enormous fireplace came tolife. A single log had been burning slowly for the last several days, so ittook just a little nudge to bring it to a flame. A pair of overstuffed chairswere positioned close to the hearth, a table set between them. Duke already laycurled on the rug, the tip of his tail wagging at our approach.
After encouraging William to sit, I left him only longenough to commandeer a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses. As I’d guessed,Terese had left a pot pie in the icebox, so I added that to my tray. He’d haveto eat it cold, because setting it on the hearth to warm would tax Duke’s senseof obedience.
Returning, I set my prizes on the table between us. Now theseduction would truly begin, though from the guarded expression in William’seyes, it would not be easy. He played with one of the buttons on his waistcoat,a small hint that his mind might be in turmoil.
“Why are you doing all this, Rand?”
His question was more open, more honest, and more obviousthan I’d expected. I could only reply in kind. “Because I want to.”
“But…” He frowned at the fire. “It makes no sense. Tessatold me she meant to spend the holiday with her daughter’s family and that I coulduse the kitchen if I wanted. I had no idea she’d leave you here alone.”
Interesting. He knew of my existence. “I’m capable of takingcare of myself.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to imply—”
My laughter cut him off. “And she’s left the icebox wellstocked. I shall not starve.” Not with such a beautiful man within my reach. “Nowhere.” I poured us each a glass of wine. “Let us drink a toast.”
I raised my glass and after a moment’s hesitation, so didhe. “To the peace of this night and our hopes for the new year.”
Our glasses clinked together and we both took a sip. Duke woofed,shifting his position, and the fire sent up a spray of sparks.
“Tell me more about yourself, William Jones. How did youcome to be sleeping in my barn?” I could have asked him to recite the alphabet.Anything to hear that beautiful voice again.
He stared darkly into his wineglass. “I’m from around Devoran.”He gave it the Cornish pronunciation, Deveryon. “I wasn’t much for mining. I’drather read than dig, honestly.”
I all but rubbed my hands with glee. “You must see mylibrary, then.”
“Could I?” He glanced at me, those dark eyes brightening.
“Of course. After our wine.”
He took a good deep swallow while I stifled my grin.
“My Da managed to scrape together the pennies for me to jointhe priesthood. I liked it well enough, until…” Whatever he’d been about to saywas lost in his moody gaze.
“Until?”
He gave me a tight smile. “Let’s just say I’m not cut out tobe a priest.”
“I’ve never had much use for religion.”
“Oh, it has its place.” He swirled the wine in his glass. “Thisis good, by the way. Thank you.”
I refreshed our glasses. “You’re very welcome.”
We sat in silence for several moments, each busy with ourown thoughts. I wondered if the man he might have killed had something to dowith why he left the seminary. Though curious, I didn’t pry. That would be astory for another time.
At my insistence, he cut into the pot pie and served himselfa healthy slice. “You won’t have any?” he asked.
I simply smiled. “Not now.” Later. Later I would feed,and it was all I could do to keep from drooling.
He was so lovely.
We talked of many things. He’d made a brief sojourn to the Continent,traveling as far as Rome. I’d wandered the same roads, though many years ago. He’dvisited churches and libraries. I’d visited gaming hells and brothels. Still,we found common ground, and by the end of his meal, his cheeks were flushed andhe’d shown off a lovely sweet smile.
When he was finished eating, I piled everything on theserving tray and poured us each another glass of wine. “Come,” I said. “We’lltake this back to the kitchen and then I’ll show you the library.”
With Duke following behind us, we traversed a short halllined with windows. They gave us a view of the formal garden, now frosted whitewith snow. Similar windows lined one wall in the library, so we’d be able towatch the Hunt as they rode past.
He paused in front of the last window before we reached thelibrary door. “Magical.” He murmured the word, and I had to agree.
“Just wait.” I breathed the words, leaning close enough tofeel his shiver. “Come.”
I deliberately left the electric lights off. Candlelightwould show the room off to its best advantage. Picking up the heavy candlestickTerese left for me, I lit it with a flick of my fingers. I slowly circled theroom, lighting candles as I went, gratified by William’s gasp of surprise.
“This is…amazing.” He stood in the center of the room,turning to follow my progress. Bookshelves lined the walls. Some were setperpendicular, to fit more shelves in. A large, upholstered chair took upvaluable floor space near the windows and I’d begrudgingly allowed a desk totake up more.
This wasn’t a place for work as much as a place to revel inthe collected knowledge of so many, many minds. “I’m something of a collector.”
William took a tentative step toward the closest shelf, handlifted as if he couldn’t help but try and touch.
“Go ahead,” I said softly, the hairs on the back of my neckrising. The Hunt was near.
William lifted a folio, allowing it to drop open. “A MidsomerNight’s Dream.”
“There are a number of plays on that shelf.”
He ran a fingertip along the page, and I brought the candlecloser.
“This is amazing.” His grin invited me closer still.
I put a hand on his back, resisting the temptation to strokethe curve of his arse.
He stepped away, but only long enough to set one folio down andpick up another. “I could stay here all night.”
The thud of horses’ hooves drew my gaze to the window. “Come.”I took his arm and drew him away from the bookshelf. “They’re here.”
The wind blew wildly, scooping up flurries of snow and sprayingthem across the landscape. Duke took up a position at my side, lips bared in asilent growl. Anyone blind to the magic of the night would see nothing morethan wind and snow.
I saw riders, fierce and furious, surrounding their queen.She rode a white horse and her page carried a blank banner the color of snow.
William’s sharp intake of breath distracted me. “What do yousee?” I asked.
“Riders.” His deep voice sent a shiver up my spine. “Is thisit, then. Are we dying?”
Chuckling, I put an arm around him and drew him closer. “Notus. Watch.”
A ghostly figure appeared at the edge of the garden. “Dom.” Arider slipped away from the pack and rode toward him. The rider paused long enoughfor my friend to climb aboard and disappeared into the mass.
My friend was gone. Duke whined, a final goodbye.
“I’ve always believedthat the devil dogs came for your soul,” William said.
“They do.” I tightened my hold on him, grateful for his warmthand his quiet curiosity. “But only of those who are already dead. Besides, apriest mustn’t put much stake in the old tales.”
His slow turn gave me time to put both my arms around him. Herested his hands on my shoulders. “What sort of creature are you? Tessa said…”
“What?”
“She warned me that you had unconventional habits.”
I grinned, showing both fangs. “You might say.”
He tilted his head, more curious than anything else.
“You can see the hunt and you’re not afraid of me. You’dmake a very poor priest indeed.”
“I suppose.”
I traced one of his errant curls. “You are welcome here foras long as you choose to stay. My habits are…irregular, but I don’t think youwill find them a hardship.”
If he had any doubt as to my meaning, the jab of my prickagainst his thigh had to make it plain.
His smile dampened, and for a moment I worried that I’dmisread his preferences. Before I could ease myself away, he pulled me closer,as if he’d sensed my intention.
“There may be some who are still looking for me. I wouldnever intentionally bring danger to anyone as kind as you.”
“Oh, William.” I rutted against him. “There’s a reason Ilive in a castle. These battlements have withstood far greater threats. Now”—I flickeda finger overhead and a cluster of mistletoe appeared—“I believe it’s time we beginour celebration.”
He glanced at the bundle of leaves with its small whiteberries. Returning his attention to me, his eyelids had grown heavy with lust. “Iagree.”
Our lips met in a sweet kiss that soon grew wild, infused withthe energy of the night, the old ways. It took little to persuade William toreturn to the rug in front of the fire, although Duke did protest our choice.
There, we honored the darkness on this darkest of nights.Honored, and celebrated, and rejoiced, until dawn brought us a new day.
