Red Awakening: (Red Knight #2) (13 page)

“Elizabeth.” He gently moves my chin up with his finger. “Eyes on mine when we talk.” His lips curve, impishly.

I chuckle. “Sorry, please continue.”

“It’s the most human occurrence of all, to dream,” he says. “Not having the ability to journey in the mind’s eye, makes me hollow… soulless.”

Wow, I never thought of it that way. Though, if he were to take a journey through one of my dreams, I’m sure he’ll change his mind.

“Okay, there is that,” I say. “But they’re just dreams. They don’t mean a thing.”

“You are wrong.” His eyes roll. “I’ve been awake long enough to know that dreams are an escape for the soul. Good or bad, your soul is free when asleep.”

“So when I’m being chased by a red balloon, that’s what I have to look forward to when I’m dead,” I frown. “If that’s the case, being like you is the better scenario.”

His jawline tenses, annoyed. “You’re really still thinking about that?”

“Of course I am. We’re married now. Have you not had one ounce of doubt that you’re wrong? One day I’ll no longer be here, while you go on.”

“Elizabeth… you’re being impossible.”

“I’m sorry, but you know everything I’m saying is true.”

“Yes.” His eyes close. “But I can’t think about it yet.”

“But have you thought about it?”

He sits up so the blanket slips further down his hips. He stares begrudgingly, not liking my need to pluck the truth out of him.

“Yes,” he replies in discontent. “I’ve thought about it. Some days it’s all I think about. But you can’t put this on me yet. You’re asking me to play god with your life; to make you bound to me always.”

“And I’m not bound to you now?”

“Of your own free will. You want me to curse you; change you into something completely different.”

I thought this moment would never come. It’s clear that he’s profoundly torn about it. But he has to understand, I’m not going to live forever. If we stay like this, one day he’ll have to sit by my deathbed, and watch me die. It’s a pretty crappy situation to think of at the age of twenty-two. He growls and falls back onto the cushions with, his arms across the top of his head.

“Adrien, you won’t hurt me,” I say quietly. “It is my choice to make. Nathan, well, he handled awakening okay didn’t he?”

“He’s Vigore, it’s nothing compared to what you will go through. They automatically draw energy when awakening, to ease symptoms.”

“Fine, but you’ll be with me.”

“Listen to me carefully,” he says in a sharp tone. “If I do this, you will have to completely sacrifice your life. You’ll have to say goodbye to family and friends… for good,” he explains. “They cannot find out what you are. You’re willing to do that, break your mom’s heart?”

Mean, cruel, selfish, yes that’s me. All he’s told me I would have to give up, I would do gladly. I can say goodbye. I can lie to make my going easier. Mine will be a completely different experience to his. He died and didn’t return from war. He didn’t have the options I do. 

“You told me once, that you didn’t want to think of the past because we are all that matters,” I sigh. “Do you not think that I feel the exact same way? You may think I’m being a bitch for wanting to abandon my family, but like you said, this is our time.” I put my case across.  

He doesn’t even blink. His brain is being pummelled by me. I don’t like pressurising him this way. I just want him to realise that it’s the right thing to do.

“You need to give me time.” His Adams apple moves down his neck. “If I turn you, it has to be on my terms… okay?”

Nervously, I shake my head in agreement, realising how hard even that was for him to say.

“I’m sorry.” I shuffle down to rest my head on his smooth breast.

“Now Mrs Knight, stop talking and sleep.”

Liz

Adrien was right and I was wrong. I need sleep. I need it now. It was stupid of me to think we’d be flying to Italy in the private jet, where I’d be able to catch up on some sleep. He’s given it to my flipping Mother, Geoff, Cate, and Aunt Carol to use for our wedding. So Adrien is now guiding my lethargic body through Edinburgh airport.

We’ve been in queue after queue, going through luggage and security checks. Now we’re waiting in the departure lounge, and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. I guess I’m now officially a snob. Give me the private jet over public transportation any day.

“Here.” Adrien shoves a black coffee right under my nose, making me flinch.

I take it with a fleeting weary grin, and a vast unsightly yawn. It’s so boring in here, just let me get on the damn plane already, so I can have a power nap.

Adrien sits down beside me. He’s wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt. Unlike me, he looks as fresh as a daisy, like he’s had a good solid twelve hours sleep.

“I did tell you,” he says.

I’ve been waiting for those words to come out of his mouth since Sara dropped us off with our luggage.

“Won’t be long, and we’ll be there.” His arm comes over my shoulders to pull me close.

After what seems a lifetime sat waiting to board the plane, we are now being shown to our seats by the flight attendant at the door. Wow, we’re in standard. I squint up to Adrien’s face in disbelief.

“What, not good enough for you?”

“No, it’s fine.” I’m beyond caring now. I simply need to take the weight off my feet.

I sit by the porthole window, four rows up from the front. I’m not going to listen to the safety advice, my eyes have already shut and my brain has switched off. I’m going to drift away as Adrien’s thumb strokes the back of my hand.

                                                           ***

It’s amazing how much two hours of sleep can recharge your batteries. I’m still a little groggy as Adrien escorts me through Italy’s bright and busy Malpensa airport. But now I can actually feel excited about our honeymoon over the fatigue.

Adrien picks up the keys for our car rental, a Mercedes E Class Convertible, and we head out into the gorgeous tropic heat, toward the pickup zone.

Adrien gives the Merc the once over. It’s silver with a black leather interior. The style of the car seems to represent this place. Apart from the odd tiny Fiat, all that appears to be zipping up and down the roads are sporty soft tops.

As the sun begins to cast an intense heat through the clouds, I grow concerned about Adrien’s skin. The warmth swoops over me in the breeze, and if my skin is beginning to tingle with the UV rays, he must be feeling it tenfold. 

“Get in then,” he says, shutting our suitcases in the boot.

“Are you going to be okay with this,” I frown, sitting down on the hot leather seat. “Would it not be better to at least put the roof up?”

“I’ll be fine,” he says, slipping his shades over his nose, and tugging a navy blue baseball cap over his head.

“Really?”

“Come on Elizabeth.” He briskly leans over and kisses my cheek. “I said I’m fine. Please stop with the worrying.”

The wind whooshes through my hair as we travel through some of the most spectacular scenes I have ever laid eyes on. It’s so beautiful here. Not like hectic Rome. This place is tranquil. Roads that snake within rock faces, snow crested mountains, all of which most definitely outshine the Lake District back home. And now, a magnificent vast blue lake as come into my view. It takes my breath away. I look across to Adrien with a generous grin.

“You like?”

“It’s wonderful,” I gush.

We pull up onto a winding concrete ramp and stop outside a modern Villa, overlooking Lake Como. I gaze up, stunned. This place is really something else. It’s two stories high with a balcony dressed in an assortment of colourful roses. It has got that Mediterranean look, but also a contemporary vibe, with the magnificent window panels which are tinted blue, like the lake. It’s a freaking mansion.  

Adrien opens the car door for me. I notice his arm, it has several deep red blotches unevenly spaced from his elbow to hand. I step out under the shade of a tall rose bush, and take his fingers from the door to inspect the damage. The sores look painful, and I’m worried. I look up to his shades with a frown.

“I’m fine… they’ll fade.” He moves his arm away.

I follow him to the door of the villa. He unlocks and allows it to swing open. Eagerly, I go to step inside.

“Err, hold on,” he says, holding me back.

I stop as he puts the keys between his lips to free his hands. He sweeps me up off my feet. I gasp with a smile, and take the villa keys out of his mouth.

“Threshold two,” he says.

He enters sideways then lets my pumps drop down onto the glossy white tiled flooring, which flows throughout.

The first thing I note is the coolness. A fresh crisp air that invigorates my clammy skin. Everything is so bright, white wash walls with contemporary artworks breaking up the uniformity. The open space is sectioned off into specific areas. A high-tech fashionable kitchen with all the mod cons. Lounge consists of a black leather corner group with red scatter cushions, and an inbuilt large bowl fireplace. And behind the sofa, on the far wall, a black framed bi-folding door, which has been left open.

I stand for a moment. Over the months I have got used to Adrien taking me to lavish places. But this is by far, one that will stick with me forever.

I focus through the doors. It’s like I’m looking at a live action work of art. The ripples upon the private pool and lake across the way. The tiny boats, sailing like miniature toys across the water. And the colour fluctuating from warm to dusky, as woolly clouds journey over the sun.

I sigh out a breath and turn to my right, to see a table a few feet from me. On it, lies a basket with gold ribbon twirled and curled around the handle. Inside there’s a bottle of pink champagne, chocolates, and a punnet of juicy fresh strawberries. I pick out a cream envelope address to Mr and Mrs Knight. I look over my shoulder to Adrien as he places my compact case next to his. He removes his cap and shades, dropping them on top of our luggage.

“Open it.” He approaches my back, slinking his hands around my waist.

With the usual jitters I get from his touch, I rip open the envelope. It simply congratulates us both on our marriage, and hopes we enjoy our stay. Signed from a Mr Michael Angelino. Adrien’s lips brush against my earlobe. I arch my neck a little, enjoying the sensation.

“This is my good friend’s villa.”

He takes the letter, dropping it back into the basket as my eyes fall onto his arm again. It’s still very raw, and I’m not convinced it’s nothing to be concerned over.

“He said we can use this place for as long as we want.”

I move forward, glossing over his honeymoon details, and pull out his arm again. My eyes narrow. These awful looking sores are getting worse. I nod and stride to the kitchen, pulling his hand behind me.

“Elizabeth… will you stop.”

I don’t listen, he needs a cold compress or some ointment to bring the redness down, and quickly.

I turn on the cold faucet over the black granite sink. I position his arm beneath the running water.

“I told you, they’ll fade,” he snaps.

“Yes you did, but it doesn’t look as though these are going to heal to me.”

“They will… it’s nothing.” He takes his arm out from the running water and flicks it.

“I don’t understand… why here?” I ask. “It’s like forty degrees out there… the peak of summer, and it will make you ill.”

He smirks, bending to a cupboard beneath the counter. As he opens, a freezing vapour drifts out and floats over the surface of my sweaty feet. It’s so refreshing. I wiggle my toes, very tempted to take off my pumps.

He takes out a small polystyrene box: blood. He carries it toward a solid waxed pine spiral staircase.

“I will be fine. I have my medicine.” He disappears up the stairs.

So, he plans on healing with blood after every hour out in the sun. Surely that can’t be good for him. Though, he won’t let me witness the whole process. The only time I have seen him feed, is when he revealed to me what he was. It’s a private thing for most vampires. Whether it’s shame, or the fear of upsetting those around him. Every morning he takes his feed into the bathroom, and locks himself away for a good ten minutes. And I (only on his request, because I really do think it’s pointless) take a tonic with my morning coffee.

                                                           ***

After a delicate dinner of fresh tuna and salad, we’re both now lying on a double lounger outside in the shade, witnessing the sun setting behind the highest peak. This is indulgent relaxation the likes I’ve never felt before. I lift myself up from Adrien’s arm to take a sip of the Franciacorta Pink wine, as he swirls the ice around in the bottom of his whisky glass. I peer down at his forearm. You wouldn’t think a few hours ago his skin was nearly blistering.

“I said I’d be fine.” He pulls me back down into his arms.

“I would have settled to stay in Killiecrankie,” I huff. “I would like you to make it back in one piece.”

“How can you say that… look at this place.”

I flip onto my side and look up to his face. “Yes, but we didn’t need to come here for my benefit. It’s not going to be much fun for me to watch you suffer.”

His pupils spin then stop sharply on me. “It doesn’t hurt at all, Elizabeth. It’s a pesky side effect of what I am. Irrespective of what you think, I do actually appreciate daylight.”

I’m unconvinced. “Really?”

“Really.” His lips form a crafty beam. “Besides, this place is just a spectacular at night… see.”

“Hmm.” I coil up into his side.

He was right, again. The light blue summer sky is now dark, and the stars are plenty. I’m looking at a black canvas that has been struck by a million glitter particles, surrounding the silver crescent moon.

“Mrs Knight, don’t you think it’s about time you went to bed?”

I sigh. “Nope.”

“Okay… but I’m getting weary.”

I crank my neck up to see him peering down. “Well, what would you like to do?”

“Swim.”

“Oh.”

“I need to exercise, burn off some energy, and you’re going to join me?”

I silence. I’m just fine here. Plus, I don’t know what kind of skimpy garment I’ve been provided with for taking a swim.

He shuffles and sits upright, swinging his legs off the lounger. God, he’s stripping off. His bare flesh reflects the moonlight beautifully. He kicks off his shoes, removes his jeans, and stark naked, dives into the shimmering water.

He breaks through the surface like some super-hot merman, wiping the water from his face. He paddles to the edge, his sexy eyes glinting at me. There is not a chance I’m getting naked. Okay, it’s relatively secluded. But there could be some Old Italian guy with a pair of binoculars hiding in the mountains.

“Are you coming in?” he asks.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

“Naked?”

“Preferably,” he replies, low and sexy.

I blow out and stand up from the lounger. I’ll meet him half-way on this. Swimming: good. Butt naked: not so much.

“One minute,” I call as I dash inside.

I crouch down to my case next to the open shutter doors, which lead out onto the balcony overlooking the pool.
Please let there be some decent swimwear in here.
I remember going on holiday with Cate, and what she wore to the beach. The worst two piece suit was her favourite; a fuchsia pink sequined bikini.

I unzip and flip open the lid. Shit, right on the top, laid out on show, is a bright red sheer negligee with a fluffy trim, and matching thong.
Oh this is great
. Between my thumb and finger, I lift and scowl at the tacky piece. It reminds me of something my mum would sell in her shop. I toss it on the tiles and see a yellow sticky note attached that reads:
ha-ha-ha, smiley face
, in Cate’s handwriting. Okay, it’s a joke, not at all funny at this moment in time.

I rummage through the layers. First pile: shorts. Second: vests. Third: pastel summer dresses. And in the large pocket section: underwear. Everything has been folded perfectly. I know Cate hasn’t done this, her packing skills are the same as mine. Fling it in, and sit to zip.

I find a bikini, and to my surprise, it’s the kind of style I’d have chosen myself: beige shorts with a black belt and matching top.

I stand up and my view falls over the scrolled railings, and onto the pool. Hell, I can’t tear my eyes away. He’s swimming smoothly like an Adonis down there, all shimmering beneath the moon. That outstanding being is now my husband. My skin heats at the sight of his nudity. Suddenly, he looks up at me.
Shit.

“Peeping Tom,” he calls up to me. “Come down here and I’ll let you have a closer look,” he laughs.