Night’s Kiss (Children of The Night #1)(13)
Author: Amanda Ashley

Lifting the hem of her dress to keep it out of the damp grass, Brenna followed the high stone wall, looking for another way out. Morgana trailed at her heels, meowing softly.

Brenna had never seen such a vast holding in her whole life. The house, bigger by far than any she had ever seen, seemed dwarfed by the grounds that surrounded it. There were trees and bushes everywhere. In the back of the house, she found a maze and strange trees cut in the shapes of animals both real and mythical.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she made her way back to the front of the house. She stared at the gate, wondering what magick she could use to open it. Calling Morgana, she held the cat in her arms while she tried a simple revocation spell, and then a nullification spell, but to no avail. Brenna tapped one foot on the ground, then frowned as a horrible thought crossed her mind. Was it possible that her magick was of no effect in this new time and place? That couldn’t be it. Her magick had worked against him earlier. Had he used some magick of his own to thwart her escape? Perhaps she needed her wand to help her focus?

One thing was for certain. She did not want to be here when he returned. She glanced around, hoping to find a place to hide. If she ducked behind the bushes beside the gates, she might be able to sneak through, unnoticed, when he returned, yet even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it wouldn’t work.

Feeling pressure on her bladder, she glanced around the yard, wondering where the privy was. She didn’t remember seeing one in the backyard, but surely in such a house as grand as this, some provision had been made! Putting Morgana down, she circled the house a second time until, unable to hold it any longer, she went behind a bush. Morgana followed, staring at her through wide yellow eyes.

Putting her clothes to rights again, Brenna picked up the cat and made her way back to the front of the house. When she put Morgana down, the cat immediately ran off into the shadows, no doubt in search of prey. She was a fearless hunter, and the bane of the birds, mice, and rabbits back home.

"Morgana, come back here! Morgana!" Brenna started after the cat and then, with a shrug, she went inside, leaving the front door open a little so the cat could get in when she was ready.

With nothing else to do, Brenna explored the rooms on the first floor of the house. The place was like nothing she had ever seen before, and not just because it was such a large house, but because of all the strange things it held, things for which she had no name. Things she was reluctant to touch for fear Roshan might return and be angry at finding her wandering through his grand manor. Of course, if he didn’t want her poking around, he shouldn’t have brought her here in the first place, or left her to fend for herself!

One room had numerous cupboards. There was a small round table and two chairs. It must be the kitchen, she thought, though it looked like no kitchen she had ever seen before. Feeling as though she was snooping, which she supposed she was, she opened the cupboards. All were bare. Perhaps, in this strange new world, people kept their food somewhere else.

She peeked into several other rooms— a parlor, a library with bookshelves that lined three walls from floor to ceiling, a room that was empty save for more bookshelves. He had more books than she had ever dreamed existed. She wondered why he had so many. Surely he could not have read them all!

And then she came upon the room she had seen in her scrying mirror. There, on a large desk, was the peculiar square window where she had seen her image. Only the window was black now. Was he a wizard, then? Did the strange dark glass act the same way as her scrying mirror? Moving closer, she peered at it intently, but she felt no power radiating from it, no whisper of magical energy.

Making her way up the stairs, she moved from room to room. She assumed they were bedchambers, though it was hard to say since all were empty of anything except more floor-to-ceiling bookcases and large comfortable chairs. The only furnished bedroom was the one that was his.

So. She had nowhere to go and no place to hide. No weapons with which to fight him save her magick. And that, she knew, would not be strong enough. How could she fight him if she couldn’t even remove something as simple as a spell on a gate?

Returning to his room, she turned the key in the lock, then climbed into the bed, fully clothed except for her shoes. She drew the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes, but as soon as she did so, her mind filled with images of men with torches surrounding her. Men from families she had known all her life. Their faces looked grotesque in the light cast by their torches as they set fire to the kindling at her feet. The smoke stung her nostrils. The flames licked her skin. If Roshan hadn’t arrived when he had, she would have died in the flames…

She opened her eyes and the images faded from her mind.

She was still awake when he returned to the house. Though she heard no sound, she knew the moment he entered the dwelling. Sitting up in the bed— his bed— she stared at the door. The door that she had locked against him.

The door that now swung open, revealing Roshan standing in the corridor. He loomed in the doorway, a tall dark shape swathed in a long black cloak that fell to his ankles.

Clutching the blankets to her chest, she cringed against the headboard as he walked into the room. There was a ruddy glow to his skin that had not been there before.

"And so," he said quietly. "You are still here."

She glared at him. "I would not be here if you had not locked the gate against me."

He regarded her for a long moment. His steady gaze made her uncomfortable but she refused to look away. Silently defiant, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

He grinned, his expression clearly telling her that he knew she was afraid.

"I want to go home," she said. "Back to my own time." It annoyed her that she sounded like a little girl frightened of the dark.

"Is that right? Anxious to go back to the stake, are you?"

She shuddered at the memory she had been visualizing only moments earlier. "Of course not. I shall go somewhere else, to another town, someplace where no one knows who I am." She didn’t want to stay here, where everything was strange. Didn’t want to stay here, with him. He frightened her in ways she did not understand.

She recoiled when he sat down on the foot of the bed.

"Dammit, stop that," he said irritably. "I’m not going to hurt you."

"I do not believe you. Why did you seek me out? Why did you bring me here?"

"Because I want you."

A maiden she might be, but she recognized the heat in his eyes, the longing in his voice. Ah, his voice, as dark as midnight, as deep as eternity. It reminded her of Granny O’Connell’s homemade whiskey, warming her from the inside out.