Crimson Kiss by Trisha Baker

Author:Trisha Baker [Baker, Trisha]
Format: epub
Tags: Demonoid Upload 6
ISBN: 9780786014163
Publisher: Lisa's E-Book Collection
Published: 2001-11-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

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December 18, 1957

Charles Tarleton took the trunk past a door saying NO ADMITTANCE. When

he was satisfied that no one else was around, he opened it. "Meghann!"

She tried to leap up and hug him, but her legs were too stiff. He helped her up.

"I know—it's uncomfortable."

"There's got to be a better way to do this," she grouched. She felt like a

pretzel, and the light was hurting her eyes after the darkness of the trunk. Travel

hadn't been a problem for her since Simon brought a private plane a few years

ago. Still, it could be worse—she could have used a coffin.

Charles withdrew a small silver flask from his tweed coat and handed it to

Meghann.

"What is it?"

"Blood—it will make you feel better."

Meghann grabbed the flask and gulped thirstily. What a terrific idea —you

couldn't get caught up in the blood lust and kill people with a bottle. After she

drained the flask, she was able to walk on her own. But first she threw her arms

around Charles.

"Thank you for helping me with Simon."

"But I've done nothing," Charles protested. "When I came here and found my

trunk empty, I was scared to death. But then I called the Algonquin and they told

me your message—that a new trunk would be arriving in two days. How did you

do it, Meghann? How did you escape Simon?"

Meghann sighed. "It's not something I want to think about. Would you mind

terribly if I waited to meet Alcuin to tell you what happened? I don't want to have

to go around telling this story over and over, like the Ancient Mariner."

"I understand." It could not have been easy—even with fresh blood, Meghann

was too pale and had circles under her eyes. But those bright green pools also

seemed more serene. Charles could barely wait to hear how she escaped Simon.

Charles led her to his Aston-Martin; he threw her scant belongings in the

backseat.

Meghann looked at the Irish countryside. She finally got to see Ireland, but it

was night. Why didn't she get to see the full beauty of the Emerald Isle?

They drove along in silence for a while, Meghann deriving some pleasure from

the cottages and castle ruins she saw. At last, Charles pulled up to an immense

structure that Meghann gaped at in awe.

"What do you think?"

Meghann looked in amazement at the tremendous brick structure with its

clusters of chimneys, balustrades, and hipped roof. This wasn't a house—it was a

small kingdom. She'd heard people talk about the stars in the sky making them feel

insignificant—that was how she felt when she looked at the colossal manse in

front of her.

"Georgian," Charles informed her, "built in the late eighteenth century."

"Do you ever get lost?" Meghann asked him.

Charles snickered. "I had the same thought when I first saw this place."

"Do people from that village we drove through work here?"

"Of course."

"But," she questioned, "don't they suspect that we're…"

"They know we're odd creatures," Charles answered. "But they don't care—

their gratitude to Alcuin more than overcomes any concern over our

eccentricities."

"Why are they grateful to Alcuin?" she asked curiously.

"That's an involved tale." He smiled. "Shall I tell

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