Alistair’s Bed (2 page)

Her tears ended just as she finished cleaning up the last piece, her legs aching as she stood up and stretched, earning another round of protests from abused and forgotten muscles.

“You’re too old to be crawling around on hard floors for hours without feeling it.” She chided herself as she gazed at her day’s work. The wood gleamed in the evening sun, glowing brightly in spots where she’d uncovered swirls of inlaid silver, so dark with tarnish it hadn’t been visible until she’d cleaned and polished it.

Standing there, she felt another pang and wished with all her heart that her Gran was there to share in this moment. She’d of understood why Keri loved this bed, she’d of loved it too. Keri closed her eyes and whispered a prayer of thanks to her grandmother, for all the years of love and support she’d offered, and for understanding how much she’d needed a place to hide away and heal.

This entire place was balm to her wounded heart, and she realized now that should have come home months ago.

As she shed her filthy clothes and stepped into the shower she could almost hear her Gran telling her,
“You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Back in the bedroom, the rays of the setting sun fell on a medallion of beaten silver embedded onto the top of one of the soaring columns. For a moment it flared with a blue green light that seemed to shimmer and dance as it flowed over entire frame, leaping from piece to piece before vanishing back into the metal disc.

Somewhere in the void, Alistair’s mind stirred again, sensing that change was coming after so many years of emptiness. If daemons had gods, he’d of said a prayer of thanks, but instead he simply drifted, remembering.

He’d been young when she’d captured him, young and arrogant and foolhardy. Just the sort of incubus the sorceress had been hoping to attract with her sensual summons. He’d ignored every bit of advice and teaching the Elders had given him and gone rushing off to investigate the tantalizing offer he could sense within the spell, never for one minute considering that he wouldn’t be able to deal with the wielder of such powerful magic. He was his father’s son, powerful and respected despite his youth.

His thoughts shifted colors, a ripple of humorless laughter coursed through him. He’d been a fool.

At first he’d raged at her, the sorceress who had captured him. Raged and fought and threatened to tear her limb from limb if she dared approach him.

For months he’d fought, growing weaker all the time. She’d waited, watching, laughing at him all the while. When he was finally too weak to rage any longer, she’d given him what he needed, sustenance, life.

He’d taken it, hating himself every second as he’d used the woman he’d been offered, feeding off her pleasure until he was drunk with sex and lust, sated and full. The next morning his lover was gone, taken away, and he’d raged again.

Angry and wild he’d done all he could to break free, but he wasn’t strong enough to break the spells that bound him to the bed she’d crafted to trap him and keep him forever. He’d never been strong enough.

***

CHAPTER 2

The next morning she woke up and groaned, feeling every ache and pain she’d inflicted on herself while working on her project. A week of sleeping on the couch wasn’t helping either, but she was determined that the next time she slept in a bed, it would be
her
bed.

Glorying in a shower where water pressure and temperature were not dictated by the number of neighboring apartments drawing on the same plumbing, she lingered under the soothing warmth until the hot water tank was empty. By the time she emerged she was nearly glowing pink with the heat, her aches and pains banished for the time being.

She changed into her work clothes and padded barefoot to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee from the coffee maker she’d programmed the night before, only then did she let herself go back to the main bedroom to look at her prized possession. She took a step into the room, stopped and did a double take. “Wow.” Was all she could say as she stared at the bed. It didn’t seem possible she’d managed to accomplish so much in only a single day.

The wood positively glowed, and every bit of silver shone like a bright river of light flowing through the wood. Bending down she ran a finger over a swirl of inlaid silver, amazed, “whatever is in that cleanser is magical stuff.” She drank her coffee as she went over each piece, her deep love for all things wood making her smile as she realized yet again just what an amazing find she’d made in the dusty little shop

Her coffee done, Keri headed back to the kitchen and pulled out a high fiber breakfast bar from the cupboard, nibbling on it as she wandered, still barefoot, out into her front yard to pick up the weekend paper, nearly startled out of her wits by a woman’s laughter coming from behind a lilac bush.

“Please tell me that isn’t your breakfast.”

“Um, yes?” Keri answered the voice, not at all certain who she was speaking too.

“That’s not food, that’s a gastronomic abomination.” A cheerful face framed in silver curls appeared around one side of the lilac, grinning. “Hi, sorry if I startled you. I was just chasing down today’s batch of eggs and I noticed you coming outside. “I’m Samantha Evans, your neighbor and a dietary busybody.” Samantha appeared to be in her late fifties, smiling as she offered her hand, the other carefully holding closed an apron full of brown eggs.

“Hi there, I’m Keri Anderson, nice to meet you,” she took the offered hand and laughed, feeling foolish in her bare feet and worn out t-shirt. “Sorry, I’m not really dressed for visiting.”

“Oh I know who you are, the whole place is abuzz with the news that Tammy’s granddaughter has finally come back to the island. And don’t you worry about your dress style dear, this is the island, you know that doesn’t matter. We moved in just last year, your grandmother was always talking about you.”

Samantha winced. “I’m babbling aren’t I? Sorry, I’m just so pleased to meet you. There aren’t too many folks up this way and some days I just get a little squirrelly with only my husband to talk to. If I get to be too much of a bother, you just let me know.”

“Did you use to visit my grandmother?”

“Every day she’d let me. We’d sit and trade stories about who’d heard from which of their families and wonder what the gossiping gals in town were going to natter on about the next time we set foot in Ganges. You know how it is.”

Keri laughed and nodded. “I remember. Are you the one who left the note saying you’d take care of the place for me?”

“That was me. I thought you’d have enough to do without worrying about things here.” Samantha reached out and patted Keri’s arm. “Tammy was worried about you, after the divorce. She’d be very happy to know you’d come home.”

Without warning she changed the subject, reaching into her apron and handing Keri a pair of still warm eggs. “Now, you head on in and make yourself a proper breakfast. You’ve got an open invitation to come over and visit any time you like, and if you find any of my girls nesting on your property, just take the eggs as rent.”

“Thank you,” She gave the older woman a grateful smile, warmth blooming in her chest at the woman’s simple but generous gesture. “For everything. I’ll come by as soon as I’ve gotten myself sorted out, I promise.”

“You do that dear, and welcome home.”

Keri headed back inside, set the eggs down on the counter and started rummaging through the fridge, her breakfast bar forgotten. She was going to make herself a proper island breakfast, hold the guilt; and then she was going to start putting her life in order, starting with her new bed.

After a breakfast of fresh eggs, island cured bacon and thick slabs of buttered toast, Keri eased herself back onto the floor and picked up a rag from the pile she’d brought in for the next stage. “Time to burn off some of that breakfast!”

The hours had flown past as she buffed and polished the entire frame again, her fingers brushing over the intricate carvings with the appreciation only another artist can have for such work. Just touching the carvings made her itch to begin carving again, a feeling she hadn’t had in a very long time. Every inch of the wood she was polishing had been worked into complex patterns that were almost hypnotic if she stared at them too long. She’d polished the silver inlay too, admiring the depth it gave the wood. Someone had taken a great deal of effort to make this bed into a masterpiece, and she couldn’t believe it was hers.

The one odd thing she’d discovered was the silver medallion embedded into the top of one of the columns. There was only the one, and none of the other columns appeared to have been made to hold one. The lack of symmetry didn’t seem right to Keri at all.

“Why just the one?” She wondered aloud. “And why such an ugly thing on such a beautiful bed?” She stared at the disc, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the image it held. A man’s form was carved into the metal, his limbs bound with chains and his mouth open in a silent scream.

“Very creepy, but if I remove it I’m likely to find out someday I destroyed a priceless heirloom, so I guess it stays. At least I won’t have to look at it once this is all back together.”

It took her over an hour to wrestle the various parts back into place, what had seemed simple when it had been explained to her the previous day proved to be a whole lot more challenging when it was just her versus a lot of heavy, awkwardly shaped bits of wood.

It had taken her another half an hour to drag her new king sized mattress out of the hallway and into place, and by the time she was done she was ready to fall onto of her new acquisition and sleep for a week. Breathless and sweating, Keri leaned back against the door frame and grinned. It was perfect.

With the last of her energy she cleaned up the rags, drop cloths and other supplies, still hardly able to believe that it had taken so little work to bring wood back to its glory.

“I think I’ve earned a nap.” Stripping her clothes off into a pile Keri launched herself into the middle of the bed and fell back, spread-eagled. She burst out laughing as she realized that at five foot three the bed was so massive she couldn’t touch the edges. “What was I thinking buying the biggest, most sinfully beautiful bed in the world so I can sleep in it alone?”

That single thought reminded Keri of just how lonesome her new life was. There wasn’t a soul in the world she could even call to share her excitement over her new bed, or her plans to take up woodworking again. Some of the dazzle left her day and she curled up under the covers, pulling one of the pillows lengthwise beside her body, wrapping her arm around it and resting her cheek on cool cotton. When a single tear of loneliness trickled down her cheek, she ignored it and willed herself to sleep.

It didn’t take long for her to fall into a dream, one that felt terribly familiar. It should, she’d had it countless times in the last few months. She was walking alone on a beach she had never seen in life. The ocean was the color of granite and the waves crashed high on the sand. She had lost something, something precious, but she didn’t know what it was, only that it was gone and she needed it back.

She started to jog, then to run, her bare feet stinging from the stones and shells she stepped on. The wind came up and tossed sea spray in her face, blinding her. Unable to see she tripped and fell to her knees with a sob.

Part of her cringed, knowing what came next: the sense of failure and then the massive wave that would rise up and crush her. The dream always ended just as the cold water surged over her, blocking out the world.

This time though, the dream changed. Someone was with her. She felt a pair of strong hands lift her off the sand, cradling her close to a warm chest. She threw her arms around her rescuer and clung to him tightly as he carried her away from the storm.

*****

Deep in the void Alistair had felt her energy, savoring it like the finest of wines. It had been so long since he’d touched the essence of any woman, but this one— he could already sense her passion, her strength. His first meal in centuries would be no paltry mouthful, she would offer him a feast.

As the woman fell deeper into slumber he sent out delicate tendrils of thought, linking her mind to his. He slid into her thoughts and touched her memories, a skill all his brethren shared. Seduction was so much easier when you knew your target’s language and customs; what they craved, what they yearned for most. He found her name,
Keri
. He tamped down his hunger and focused, gleaning what he needed to know before gathering what little strength he had left and weaving himself into her dreams.

He’d never experienced another person’s nightmare before, nightmares were hardly the easiest place to start a seduction from, but he hadn’t got the energy or the patience to wait for an easier dream to step into. His gaze dropped to the red haired woman in his arms as he cradled her closer. It had been hard to watch her fear and pain grow, to wait for the right time to appear. The moment he’d seen her he’d wanted to save her, protect her from the darkness of her own mind. Such courage and so much sadness blended together in one beautiful package.

He leaned down and brushed a kiss to her brow, feeling his hunger leap at even that small touch. By Styx he needed this woman, wanted her beyond anything he’d felt before and they’d only met in a single dream. What would it feel like when he was strong enough to stand in her world and hold her for real? He couldn’t wait to find out.

He focused for a moment and let the nightmare fall away, creating a bower of sunlight and blossoms around them, warmth and softness instead of cruel wind and cold sand. Firmly in control of the dream now, he lowered her to the ground and brushed a kiss over her lips, banishing their clothing with a thought.

Beneath him Keri stirred, her fingers stroking over bare skin and her eyes fluttering open to stare up at him in surprise. “You’re new,” she murmured.

*****

Where did I conjure him up from?
Keri wondered as she took a moment to appreciate her own imagination. He was gorgeous. Powerful shoulders and a broad chest loomed in her vision, and she could feel the hard muscle and sinew that moved beneath her fingers as she touched him. His face could have been sculpted by one of the great artists, strong lines and bold features set off by a pair of golden brown eyes that seemed to shimmer with heat as he watched her from behind a lock of dark hair that fell over his eyes.