Whatever it was, he was sure Tara was unaware of it. He thought of her desire for a normal life, and knew he had to let her go.
Three hours out of London, snow began to fall.
…
“Tara, we’re almost there.”
A hand touched her shoulder, and she opened her eyes. The car had stopped moving, and the interior light was on. They were cocooned in darkness, a swirling mass of snow outside, and beyond that nothing. She turned to find Christian watching her.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked.
Was she? She nodded. “Of course. It’s only a house.”
He switched off the light and turned the ignition. They drove slowly. A layer of snow crunched under the car’s wheels, and the dark trees on either side were shadowed in the headlights’ beam. Tara stared straight ahead.
“I guess you know this road well?” Christian spoke into the silence.
“Not well. We didn’t leave very often. In fact, I don’t remember Aunt Kathy ever leaving.”
“Probably the magic that kept her alive was tied to this place.”
“What? So she would have—” She’d been going to say died, but that didn’t seem the right term for someone who was already dead. “I used to cut across the moors to get to the village, so this track wasn’t used much. Just deliveries and things.”
Up ahead she saw the wrought iron gates at the entrance to the house. “There it is,” she said. “I have the keys, just a moment.”
She found the big old-fashioned keys in her bag and opened the car door. Swirls of snow entered the warm interior and she shivered. “I need my coat, it’s freezing out there.”
Christian took the keys from her and exited the car. A minute later, the gates swung open, and he climbed back in and drove through. He halted the car at the midpoint through the gates.
“The gates are warded.”
Tara could see nothing unusual. “Warded? What does that mean?”
“More magic. My guess is it’s a cloaking device. Hiding what’s inside.”
“But there’s nothing there to hide.”
“No, but there was…you.”
She rubbed at the point between her eyes to erase the tension. “Why would anyone want to hide me? I can’t do anything different. I’m ordinary.”
“You’re not ordinary. I don’t know what you are, or why someone should feel the need to hide you away, but there is something about you, something I sensed straight away. Your scent is exotic, deliciously intoxicating.” He breathed in deeply, his eyes half shut. “I’ve never come across a human or a supernatural being who smells quite like you. No, whatever you are, you’re different.”
“I don’t want to be different.”
Christian shrugged. “We rarely get what we want. We just have to learn to accept what we are. Come on, let’s get you inside before you freeze.”
Chapter Eleven
The building appeared out of the darkness. Half hidden by the swirling snow, it loomed gray and huge.
“You need to drive round the back,” Tara said.
Christian pulled up in the shelter of the house, and Tara got out of the car and hurried to unlock the door. It opened straight into the farmhouse kitchen. After stepping inside, Tara was amazed at the feeling of welcome that washed over her. She pressed the light switch just inside the door, hoping the power was still on, and relaxed as light flooded the room.
This had always been her favorite part of the house. For a moment, she stood and let the feeling run through her. She’d built the place up into some sort of nightmare, when in fact she had been happy in the only home she had known for twenty-two years. While from the outside the house had appeared grim and austere, the inside was warm and welcoming. It was only as she grew older that she felt hemmed-in, trapped.
A noise made her turn back to the open door. Christian stood on the threshold, snowflakes settling like stars in his dark hair. He was so big he filled the doorway.
“You need to invite me in,” he said.
She remembered he’d asked the same thing at her apartment. One more vampire lore confirmed. “Come in,” she said, and he stepped over the threshold.
“How does it feel to be back?” he asked.
“Actually, it feels good. I never hated the house. I just wanted to see something of the world.”
“I’ll go get the stuff from the car.”
He returned a few minutes later with her small case and a box. He put the case next to her and the box on the table. “Graham said you might need some food, coffee and so on. This should keep you going for a couple of days at least.”
“I think I may be in love with Graham.” She opened the box. “You want some coffee? Do you even drink coffee?”
He nodded.
Tara put the coffeemaker on; everything was exactly where she expected. She puttered around the room, putting things away, stroking her hands over the comfortable, familiar furniture. She found Christian watching her. “What?”
“You seem at home here. I thought you hated this place.”
“So did I. After Aunt Kathy died, I wanted to get as far from here as possible. A lot of it was guilt. I sort of promised her that I would stay here.”