Beloved Forever Part 26

She shook her head. "He's found me again, but doesn't seem to want me now, does he?" She tookBrannon's silence for a.s.sent as she walked into the castle, gasping with dismay at how much it had changed. The walls had been stripped of the tapestries, including the one she had made of a medieval woman in a tower that used to hang above the huge fireplace. There was a decrepit-looking table tucked in the corner, surrounded by rickety chairs. There were no cobwebs or acc.u.mulated dirt, but it lacked any sign of life.

Nicholas stood to the side, near the winding stone staircase. He waved at it. "Since you remember where everything is, you can get yourself settled. You don't need me holding your hand."

She nodded, trying to keep her tone cool. "I can take care of myself." She ignored his snort of disbelief as she walked past him up the stairs, keeping her spine stiff until she was certain he couldn't see her anymore. Then she ran up the remaining stairs and turned to the right, going on autopilot to another set of steeply angled stairs. Two steps up, she remembered there was a section missing from the fourth step, and it could be dangerous if stepped on wrong. She skirted the damaged section and continued climbing, emerging into another hallway stripped bare of decorations. Not even a table or picture lined the pa.s.sage.

The double doors at the end of the wing summoned her. Emily opened one, finding the k.n.o.b turned easily under her hand. The caretaker obviously kept the castle ready for occupation at a moment's notice. She wondered why Nicholas had stripped the castle of personal possessions. Was it to save work for the caretaker, or could he not bear to see reminders of what he had lost?

Emily was relieved to see the four-post bed frame-certainly with a different mattress-remained in the room, although it lacked sheets, pillowcases and a spread. She went to the room that used to be a dressing room and found new packages of bed linens lining the shelf. A thin coat of dust clung to them, indicating they had been waiting for use a long time.

She busied herself with preparing the bed, trying not to think about how it hurt to have Nicholas keep pus.h.i.+ng her away. Was he angry with her for rejecting him, or was he still grieving over the loss of his father? Would he have chosen to sacrifice her to Koss instead, knowing he would find her again? After all, he had found her four times before, but had only found his father once in eight hundred years.

She plumped the pillows and shook her head, knowing that wasn't right. He wouldn't have chosen either of them. He had offered himself in their stead. She suspected she had wounded him with her blunt words, but more than that, she thought he was avoiding her because she had seen through his eyes. She didn't know everything he had done, but he must be concerned that she couldn't look past what she did know.

Was he pus.h.i.+ng her away before she could push him away?

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing in this room?"

Her heart stuttered as he shouted at her from the doorway. She turned from stacking the pillows to look at him. "What?"

He stepped into the room, though with obvious reluctance. "Why did you pick this room?"

She frowned with confusion. "Why shouldn't I? I remember it was our room..." She trailed off, blus.h.i.+ng when she looked back at the bed. She had made it exactly as he preferred, with two pillows plumped on his side, the covers turned back and the privacy curtains parted. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be presumptuous." She let out a startled cry as he came up behind her, turned her toward him and grabbed her arms to shake her. "I'll get another room-" "No one ever uses this room. Do you understand?" There was a wild look in his eyes, and he seemed to have lost any semblance of control. "Never."

"Why not?" she forced out through her clacking teeth, as he continued to shake her.

"Because you died here." The words seemed torn from him, and he abruptly let go of her as tears flooded his eyes. "I found you lying on that bed, holding our babe..." He turned away from her, and his shoulders stiffened. "Sleep wherever you want." He seemed to be struggling to sound as if he didn't care, but his voice wobbled. "I don't care."

She reached out to touch his arm. "I'll pick another room. I didn't think about that." Though she felt his pain, her heart rejoiced at his words. He hadn't made the distinction between her and Erin. He wasn't pus.h.i.+ng her away as successfully as he thought.

He shrugged off her touch. "No, don't. You already have it made up now." He walked to the door without looking back.

"Nicholas?"

He stopped walking, but he didn't turn around. "What?"

"You can't push me away forever, you know." She licked her lips, awaiting his response, longing for him to turn back and gather her in his arms. She didn't even care if he apologized for his boorish behavior, so long as he showed some sign of still wanting her.

He stiffened. "It doesn't have to be forever."

She walked closer to him, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but stopping an inch away and dropping her arm. "Really? I thought this eternal life business lasted eternally."

He shrugged. "It does, for the most part, but that's not what I meant. I only have to keep you out of my way until you're safe from Koss. Then I'm sending you home."

She balled up her fists. "What gives you the right to make my decisions for me?"

He spun around so quickly she didn't see him move. "I don't want you anymore. Don't you get it, Emily? You aren't as I thought you'd be. A lot has changed since 1831. I was blind to believe I was still in love with you." His eyes were cold as he looked at her. "You're nothing like Erin. You don't have to go home, but you aren't staying with me when this is over. It's time I moved on."

Tears p.r.i.c.ked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I don't believe you. You kept searching..."

"An obsession," he dismissed. "No worse than Koss's obsession with me. I suppose I can even understand his need. Like me, he's driven by a thirst to possess, but it has nothing to do with love." His eyes raked over her from head to toe. "He can't let go, but I've discovered I can."

The tears rolled down her cheeks, but she shook her head, stubbornly clinging to the memories of their times together, and the way she felt. "You're lying. You don't want to get hurt again, so you're deliberately pus.h.i.+ng-"

Nicholas made a scoffing sound. "Believe what you want. You're too naive to see the truth. How couldI have ever imagined you were a subst.i.tute for my dead wife?" He spun around and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

The silence he left behind him broke under the sound of Emily falling to the floor in a sobbing heap. She buried her face in her hands, wanting to deny his words. In her heart, she didn't really believe him, but couldn't stop crying. How could she love him so pa.s.sionately one moment and hate him just as pa.s.sionately the next?

Chapter Sixteen.

Emily made her way downstairs later in the day from the master bedroom. There had been little reason to change rooms after her confrontation with Nicholas, and she had eventually fallen asleep in the s.p.a.cious bed. To her surprise, only a mild nightmare of Koss's grinning visage intruded into her dreams.

Mostly, she had dreamed of happier times as Erin, when Vallsade Manor had been her home, and her husband had loved her.

She found a flurry of activity in the hall. Strangers rushed in and out, carrying parcels, furniture and bags.

Brannon sat on one of the rickety chairs, immersed in his Game Boy. She brushed past two men balancing an oversized chair, heading for the hallway at the end of the hall that she knew led to a sitting room.

She took a seat beside him, cautiously testing the chair before letting it absorb her weight. He looked up, but not quite in her direction. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Nicholas had some stuff brought up from London." He slid a bowl of apples to her. "Breakfast, until after everyone leaves. Then I'll whip up something. Nicholas has stocked your...provisions in the cooler in the bas.e.m.e.nt, so you won't need to hunt." He spoke blandly, but the set of his shoulders was tense.

She took one of the red apples and polished it on her s.h.i.+rt. "Who brought up my luggage? It was inside my room when I woke up."

He shrugged. "Wasn't me. Probably Nicholas."

She sighed. "Don't you ever put that thing away?"

He clicked it off and looked up. "Yes."

She drummed her fingers on the tabletop. "And those sungla.s.ses-don't you ever take them off?"

He frowned. "You're certain you want me to?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Hmm." He brought up a hand to slide the sungla.s.ses onto the top of his head. "Satisfied?"

Her breath hissed through her teeth when she saw his eyes...rather, his lack of eyes. Empty sockets, marred with scars, stared back at her. "You're blind." He returned the sungla.s.ses to the bridge of his nose, hiding his eyes again. "You didn't know?"

She shook her head. "How could I? You don't seem blind. You're always playing that game-"

"It's a matter of sound and logic. I'm not that good at most of the games, but practicing keeps my senses sharp."

"How do you get around? You seem so capable."

Brannon shrugged. "Again, it's a matter of using my senses. I've been blind for almost two hundred years. My senses of hearing, touch, taste and smell have compensated. Not to mention my psychic abilities." As he spoke, one of the apples lifted from the bowl and twirled through the air. "It's not a lot different from having my sight." He grinned at her. "For example, I can tell you exactly what ingredients are in the perfume you're wearing. Charlie Red, isn't it?"

She nodded before realizing he couldn't see. "Uh, yeah."

"Don't worry about your gestures. You're easy to read." The apple floated back to the bowl. "It's actually an effort to block out your thoughts right now. It'll probably be like that for another century or so."

She sighed. "I doubt I'll be around that long."

"He didn't mean it." Brannon reached for the handheld game again. "Nicholas is stubborn as h.e.l.l, and he's decided the only way to get Koss to leave you alone is to make him think he doesn't love you."

"That's not it. He would have said something-"

"Yeah, 'cause you'd be convincing if you knew," he said with mild sarcasm. He touched her hand casually. "Look, he's not an easy man to get close to. He's doing his best to push you away, because he's trying to convince himself he doesn't love you any longer. It's the safest thing for you."

She set the apple on the table, finding her appet.i.te gone. "That's stupid. Koss will hurt me either way."

He nodded. "That's what Nicholas hasn't realized. Even if he didn't love you anymore, Koss would know he had loved you once. And he'll do anything to hurt him. If he can't have Nicholas, he doesn't want him to be happy with anyone else."

"Why can't he let Nicholas go?" She clenched her hands together. "Would he if I left Nicholas? If Koss knows Nicholas can't have me, won't he-"

"No." Brannon spoke abruptly. "Part of torturing Nicholas includes watching him suffer each time you die. He promised Johanna he could make her mistress of Tremont Plantation if she betrayed Elspeth's secret. Whom do you think twisted Tremont's mind to convince him spend a year torturing Elspeth, a woman he was in love with? He convinced Tremont to marry Johanna, and he was the one who planted the idea of Tremont killing her right before Nicholas returned. It took Nicholas years to break Koss's hold on the man and discover he wasn't as evil as he had seemed. He loved Elspeth, and in the end, he was a victim, just like the rest of us. That's what allowed Nicholas and Tremont to form a rapport despite the anguish they had caused each other. Their common hatred of Koss united them in a way I wouldn't have imagined possible." "What about Erukan? Did he influence her death?"

Brannon shook his head. "No, Koss didn't know about you then. He knew about reincarnation, but didn't know Nicholas had found out about it. I have no doubt he would have been involved with killing you in that life if he'd had the chance, but the conquistadors beat him to it." He gave her a sardonic grin.

"Poor Koss."

She didn't respond to his black humor. "He wasn't content to wait for someone else to harm Erin, I guess."

"No, I guess not." Brannon sighed. "I should have been here to protect you."

Her eyes widened. "You knew Erin?"

He nodded. "Oh, yes. She was a bonny la.s.s," he said in a terrible Scottish accent. "Though I was already older than her when she married Nicholas, she was kind of like a mother to me." His mouth drooped. "She was the only one who didn't try to dissuade me when I went after Koss."

Emily's brow furrowed. "Why would you go after Koss?"

He touched his sungla.s.ses. "He took my eyes the same night he took my wife. I thought it was to hurt Nicholas in the beginning." A bitter laugh escaped him. "Can you believe it? The sick b.a.s.t.a.r.d became infatuated with Nina, and he just took her."

She started at the mention of his wife's name, remembering the woman from the church. She didn't need to ask the outcome.

"No, I guess you don't." He sounded weary. "By the time I caught up with them, he had her convinced she was in love with him. She told me it was all her idea, but I knew that was a lie. If you remembered Nina..."

She s.h.i.+vered, recalling the cold woman from her memory of Erin's death.

"She wasn't like that before he twisted her mind," he said in a hard voice. Brannon's mouth straightened.

"I apologize. I have no right to read your thoughts and then argue with them. It's more difficult to maintain a distance when I'm distraught."

A memory stirred at the back of her mind, and she frowned, struggling to focus on it. A flash of Brannon's face-several years younger and not lined with the cares of the world-came to her. She remembered them laughing together as they stood in the chapel. She knew the image must be from Erin's lifetime, because the church was long gone. She scrunched her brow. What were they doing in the chapel? Had he witnessed her wedding? No, that didn't seem right.

An image of Nina came to her as well. She wasn't smiling like Brannon. Rather, she looked tired and strained, and there was a sullen set to her lips. She held a child in her arms. "What happened to your son?" she blurted out without thought.

Brannon flinched, but didn't shy away from answering. "I wish I knew. Nina took him with her the night Koss attacked us, but when I caught up with them, he was gone. Koss nearly killed me that night." His mouth twisted. "Do you know why he spared my life?" She shook her head, leaning forward.

"So I could live with the agony of not knowing what they had done with my son, not knowing if he was alive or dead."

The raw pain in his tone made Emily reach out to him. She grasped his hand in hers and squeezed, rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand. "Oh, Brannon-"

"If you two are through cozying up in the corner, I could use your help," Nicholas said, approaching the table. "The supplies are laid in, and we need to ensure the perimeter is secure before we lock down the castle with ourselves inside. I want to be certain this really is a fortress before we close it to the outside world." He looked angry, and his eyes lingered on their joined hands.

She looked up at him, pus.h.i.+ng back the twinge of guilt. Holding Brannon's hand was innocent, but even if it wasn't, she didn't owe him any explanations. She was a free agent since he didn't love her anymore.

She met his gaze defiantly, not relinquis.h.i.+ng his nephew's hand.

Brannon snorted softly as he moved his hand and got to his feet. He seemed to have cast off the bad memories haunting him, but for the slight slumping of his shoulders and grim lines around his mouth.

They met back in the hall after examining each section of the castle, nearly two hours later. Nicholas stepped into the falling rain, wearing a light jacket, and ran to the gatehouse. The portcullis came down seconds after he stepped inside the small stone structure, and Emily a.s.sumed it worked by some electronic means. As he ran across the courtyard, the lightning flashed, and the rain began falling with more force.

He entered the castle, shaking out his wet hair, not bothering to take off the jacket before he and Brannon closed the doors. He glanced at both of them before turning the key in the lock. "No one gets in, and no one gets out until this is over." The lock clicked, and he slipped the key back into the pocket of his jeans. Their eyes met briefly, but he looked away without speaking, then turned and walked to the staircase without looking back.

"Hungry?" Brannon asked.

She started to shake her head, but her stomach growled. "Yeah, I guess."

"You like pizza?"

"Of course, but I thought no one could get in."

"I'll make it." He offered her his arm. "I'm pretty handy in the kitchen, and Nicholas ordered enough supplies to last months."

She looped her arm through his and walked with him into the kitchen. At some point in the last decade, Nicholas had upgraded the kitchen. An industrial size dishwasher and refrigerator nestled into an alcove near the stove, built into the cabinets. Somehow, the mix of ancient and modern looked more right than she would have believed. Brannon gestured to the island in the center of the kitchen. "Hop up on one of those stools. You can help me chop vegetables."

She went to a stool and clambered up, watching as he walked to the fridge and opened the crisper. "Do you need help?"

"Nah, I know which vegetable I'm holding by touching it. If all else fails, there's always my nose." The opened steel door m.u.f.fled his voice, until he turned to face her, bearing an armful of produce bags. "Are there knives on the island?"

She glanced at the block of knives with wooden handles. "Uh-huh." She extracted a chopping knife, noting how sharp it was. Would it make a good weapon? "Um, if Koss comes-"

"When," he inserted quietly as he set the bags on the Formica surface.

She cleared her throat. "When he comes, how will I defend myself?"

His brows drew together, and he made a sound low in his throat. "Good question. Guns against vampires are mostly ineffective. They heal too fast, and it's almost impossible to do permanent injury."