“Drew,” she began.

  “Why is he here?” He glanced over his shoulder toward Collin.

  “There’s a storm outside.”

  “Is there really? And I thought it was a sweet summer night. I asked what he’s doing here.”

  “I heard you’d settled at the lighthouse, and I wanted to see you both.”

  “Did I speak to you?” Drew bellowed, rising to face Collin. He bared his fangs, and the scent of his fury filled the room.

  “Drew, please.” Kenna stepped in front of him and pressed her hands against his chest—a futile attempt to prevent him from advancing on Collin. His heart slammed against her palms. Growling like a furious wolf, Drew nudged her aside, his fiery gaze fixed on his old friend turned enemy.

  Collin didn’t step forward, but he curled his lip back slightly, exposing his sharp teeth. “I don’t want trouble, Drew. There has been enough of that between us.”

  “Another fact I apparently overlooked!”

  “Will you calm down and listen!” Kenna snapped. “Both of you!”

  “I don’t have to listen to anybody! This is my home! He’s an invader, and this is an act of war!”

  “Drew, there is no war!” Kenna tossed up her hands in exasperation. “No one can travel in that storm out there! By morning we’ll be buried.”

  “And dead!”

  “Be reasonable. Collin has to stay here. Where else has he to go?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

  “He could die out there.”

  Drew folded his arms across his chest and flashed a morbid grin, his white teeth gleaming against his dark, wiry beard.

  “He’s my only family,” Kenna whispered.

  Drew turned to her. The pain and anger in his eyes nearly stole her breath. “And what am I?”

  “My world.” She slipped her arms around his waist and rested her chin against his chest. “The truest love I’ve ever known. Please let him stay, just until he can travel.”

  Drew shot a look of pure hatred at Collin before turning back to the fire. He sat on the braided rug in front of it.

  “Thank you,” Collin said. “Drew, I know you want to kill me, and—”

  “Kill you? Kenna is the only reason you’re not already dead.”

  Kenna extended her hand for Collin’s cloak. As he removed it, a black cat dropped to the floor and scurried under a chair near the fire.

  Both Kenna and Drew stared at the feline in surprise.

  “You brought an animal into our house?” Drew demanded. One long arm reached out, and he snatched the cat by the back of its neck. It meowed loudly.

  “Drew, give her to me.” Collin stepped forward, but froze when Drew hissed and extended his arm toward the fireplace, holding the cat just above the flames.

  Kenna gasped in horror and disbelief.

  Collin’s eyes widened. “Drew, give her to me, damn you!”

  “Damn me?” Drew laughed. “Damn me? You’ve already done that. Remember the fire in your father’s prison?”

  The cat hissed, though its feet didn’t touch the flames.

  Kenna took a step forward. “Drew…”

  “Do you remember?” Drew fixed his gaze on Collin.

  “Yes, I remember.”

  Drew removed the cat from the fireplace and held it close to his chest, gently stroking the soft, sleek fur. He stared across the room, no longer aware of his companions. “There was so much smoke and heat at times it was almost impossible to breathe. They’d close the door. The only water was tears and sweat. Sometimes they used the flames to heat irons.” Drew continued stroking the cat. His unblinking eyes brimmed with moisture.

  Kenna clenched her teeth, momentarily furious at her brother for coming here. It had taken years for Drew to distance himself from the dungeon and the wars—to regain some semblance of sanity. After she’d changed him, they’d run away together and married. They’d tried to settle in town after town, but Drew’s madness often drove him to aggressive fits. Such episodes, combined with his vampiric nature, created fear and panic among mortals. When he’d rage about the past, his teeth gleaming and eyes glowing, citizens chased them off with stakes and pitchforks. Kenna hadn’t blamed them.

  The only solace they found was when Drew thrust himself into healing. The focus required when he aided others quelled the fury and fear inside him. So she followed him over land, across seas and mountains, stopping wherever his skills were needed. Only a year ago they’d settled near the lighthouse, after the old keeper had died.

  How had Collin found them? As happy as she was to see him, the pain his presence caused Drew soured their reunion.

  “Then they’d hold the irons to our bodies,” Drew continued. “We heard them sizzle and smelled our flesh burning. No matter how we screamed, there was no relief.”

  Kenna stooped beside her husband and stroked the cat’s back. The animal’s green eyes stared up at her fearfully, its ears flat against its head. Gently she took the cat from Drew and placed it in Collin’s arms. Collin murmured lovingly to the animal and caressed its fur. She wondered how he could care so deeply for a cat, but had watched while her father’s men tortured Drew.

  “It’ll be dawn soon,” Kenna said. “We should get some sleep.”

  She took several woolen blankets from the trunk at the foot of the bed and made a place for Collin in the corner of the room.

  “I’m sorry,” Collin told her.

  Kenna embraced him, her cheek resting against his shoulder. A hundred years was such a long time.

  “I’ve missed you, Kenna, so much.”

  She nodded, her look expressing the words she dared not speak for fear of upsetting Drew further. He stared at the siblings, his teeth visibly clenched.

  Collin sank into the blankets. The cat curled by his head, a striking combination of blond and black hair.

  “Come to bed.” Kenna took Drew’s hands and tugged.

  His palms were sticky where his claws had sliced his flesh, but the wounds had already begun to heal. She reflected how strange it was that, for their kind, any scars they’d received prior to the change remained forever, but new wounds faded as if they’d never been.

  Drew pulled away from her and stared at the flames.

  “I’m tired, Drew,” she said. “And you should be, also. You’ve been in the village for days helping with the sick. Tomorrow night, when you wake, you’ll feel better.”

  “Feel better? Watching you with him.” Drew’s head jerked toward the corner where Collin already slept soundly. “It’s almost worse than the dungeon.”

  “He’s my brother.”

  “He’s my torturer.”

  “He didn’t torture you! My father did. Why don’t you blame me, too?”

  “Because you weren’t there! Because I know you tried to help me. You didn’t stand and watch my skin being burned off, my soul and body raped.”

  “Drew, it’s the past! You have a new life. You’re a creature untouched by such filth and pain.”

  “Untouched? Every day I’m in the midst of filth and pain. I remember what it felt like, and I hope I never forget even after a thousand years.”

  Kenna sighed, pressing her palms to her eyes. Drew was a breathing contradiction—a beast one moment, a compassionate healer the next. She loved him for all his flaws and all his gifts. When she’d changed him, she truly thought she could end his suffering, but no one could do that for anyone. She’d learned their kind were not exempt from pain. The change increased their strength and enhanced their resistance to disease, but they were not invulnerable. They still hurt, and they still bled. At times they even became ill.

  And they could die.

  They could burn, freeze, or drown. Their hearts could be damaged beyond recovery.

  “I love you, Drew.” She kissed him, but his lips were unyielding.

  After crawling into bed, Kenna rolled onto her side and stared at her husband's silhouette in the firelight.

  * * *

  At dusk, Kenna blinked sleep from her eyes and squinted toward the fire. Drew sat, apparently unmoving since dawn. She called to him softly.

  “I’ve already lit the beacon and dug a path to the lighthouse.” At least he’d moved, after all.

  She left the bed, the floor cold against her bare feet, and attempted to slip her arms around his neck. He stood abruptly and reached for his snow-dampened cloak. “We need more wood.”

  The door slammed so hard behind him, that both Kenna and the black cat curling around her ankles jumped.

  Kenna glanced toward the linen-lined wooden tub across the room. She approached and swished her hand in the warm water before slipping off her shift and climbing into the tub. Despite his anger, Drew had done something sweet like this, taking the time to heat water over the fire so that she could indulge in a morning bath.

  When she finished washing, she prepared a meal of bread, tea, and smoked meat. The cat leapt on the table, nosing around the dishes.

  “No, pretty girl.” Kenna picked up the sleek feline and cuddled her before placing her on the floor. “That’s all Drew would have to see, you on the table. You might just end up being our next meal.”

  A crash sounded from outside. Kenna bounded across the room and flung the door open. Collin knelt in the snowy path, gathering several split logs scattered on the ground. His eyes glowed. The tips of his teeth shone against his lips.

  Drew, wearing a wicked smile, his arms loaded with firewood, brushed past her and into the house.

  “What happened?” Kenna picked up several pieces of wood, but Collin was no more talkative than Drew.

  Inside, Drew stoked the fire while Kenna served the meal. Collin sat at the table, and the cat jumped onto his lap. Purring, she kneaded his thigh.

  From across the room, Drew scowled, watching Collin stroke the cat's tiny head.

  Collin turned to him. “I’ve heard you’ve helped many people in the surrounding villages.”

  “Drew is very dedicated to his craft.” Kenna glanced at her husband with pride.

  Smiling slightly, Drew caressed the hem of Kenna’s skirt. “I’ve had support.”

  “You always were a good healer,” Collin told Drew. “And you were right. Healing is more important than fighting, no matter what the price.”

  “Easy to say when you’re not the one paying.” Drew stood. “I’m not so shortsighted. I’ve learned the value of fighting. Sometimes it keeps one alive as readily as healing.”

  “Drew studied fighting during our travels East. He learned some fascinating styles. There was a woman who taught him to use a staff as a weapon. She practiced for over a thousand years. Can you imagine, Collin? A thousand years.”

  “I can’t imagine living as I have for a thousand years.” Collin murmured, a distant look in his eyes.

  “If I gave a damn, I’d ask what you’ve done with yourself.” Drew stood and used his foot to kick out a chair from the table. He sat and tugged Kenna onto his lap.

  Relieved that Drew seemed to be warming to her again, she placed aside the teakettle and slid her arms around his neck. She glanced toward her brother. “What have you done with your life?”

  “I’d rather know why you’ve come.” Drew’s voice was colder than the wind outside.

  A sad smile played around Collin's lips. “I can answer both questions, as they’re related. After Father’s death—”

  “After we killed him,” Kenna interjected.

  “No, dear, ‘Father’s death’ sounds so much better.” Drew sneered. “It might not be completely accurate, but it won’t offend Collin’s delicate sensibilities.”

  “I understand your anger.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Drew clenched his teeth. His incisors sank into his lips until they bled. “There’s no way you can understand anything about me. I believed in healing. I didn’t believe in war. I was tortured for my convictions while you watched.”

  “There was no reasoning with my father. There never was.”

  “I wouldn’t have watched you suffer.” Drew hissed. “Now I’d as soon kill you as look at you. That’s what I’ve learned in a hundred years, Collin. I can kill, just like your father wanted me to. All the hot pokers and shackles in the world couldn’t have made me take a life, but put a sword in a man’s hand and throw him into battle and he will defend himself. Battles destroy common men and make lords and ladies rich. Cut off a soldier’s hand. Slice open his belly. Do you know what entrails smell like? Oh, of course you do. You saw the dungeons. But sewing back a man’s insides is quite different from watching another man rip them out!”

  Collin’s eyes gleamed. “I know what pain and disease smell like, Drew! I know as well as you do!”

  Drew snorted with contempt.

  “Where have you been, Collin?” Kenna asked, sensing that her brother's distress extended beyond the rift between him and Drew.

  “After the battle, you know there was nothing left of our lands. With you both gone, I had no one, but I had guilt.”

  Drew snarled, but Kenna shushed her husband, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand.

  “I wandered for about a year, traveling mostly by sea. During a storm, the ship where I’d taken work crashed.”

  “Taken work?” Drew’s teeth gleamed as he smiled. “From nobleman to cabin boy? And afraid of the water, too!”

  “The ship crashed on an island. It was scarcely more than a patch of rocks and shrubs. I was the only survivor, but there were people living there. It was a leper colony.”

  Kenna’s brow furrowed. “A leper colony?”

  “Yes, Drew, so I know what suffering smells like. I know rotting flesh and the stench of herbal remedies that do nothing, not even ease pain at the end. Still, I finally found where I belonged. For the first time in my life, I could be of use. Suddenly, I realized what Drew possessed and I lacked. Strength. Courage. He knew how to give without asking anything in return.”

  “Excuse me.” Drew gently guided Kenna off his lap and stood. He reached for his cloak. “I think I’m about to be sick.”

  “I don’t care if you want to hear this or not,” Collin said.

  Drew snarled. “If you stayed on the island, it was to serve penance in your own mind, not because you admired me!”

  “My reasons were selfish.”

  “And it doesn’t matter what you did or what I do. It’s not as if we can catch their diseases. You weren’t at risk.”

  “Not my body, but do you have any idea what it’s like to love people and watch them all die? Nearly a hundred years I stayed there. I don’t know what happened, but eventually, new people stopped coming. The last of my friends on the island died this past summer.”

  Her brother's pain cried out to Kenna. She reached across the table for his hand. “Collin.”

  “A hundred years.” Drew folded his arms across his chest, his voice still mocking, though Kenna noticed the slightest thaw in his eyes. “Didn’t they question your endless youth?”

  “There were rumors, but as long as I cared for them, no one questioned. We needed each other. After it ended, I felt like I had to find you.”

  “We've been quite well, thanks,” Drew quipped. “Nice of you to stop by. There’s the door.”

  “I know nothing can ever be as it was between us.”

  “Bloody right!”

  “Eternity is a very long time.”

  Drew curled his lip. “It’s not as if we’re truly immortal. We can die. You can die.”

  “Do you want to kill me?”

  “No, I just want to torture you a little.”

  “I’ve been tortured since the moment the three of us broke.”

  “You mean since you and her broke!” Drew pointed viciously at Kenna.

  “You know what our home was like, Drew! Kenna was the only family I had. So were you!”

  “I was an orphan! And if you considered me family and treated me so coldly, then I hate to think what you might have done had I been a mere acquaintance!”

  Collin drew a steadying breath and ran a hand through his short, blond hair. “I did what I could to help you. Please believe me.”

  “I don’t.” Tears sprang into Kenna's eyes. “Collin, I begged you to help me plan an escape!”

  “Father would have killed the three of us!”

  “He was already killing Drew, and in doing so killing me, too!”

  “Why did you come here, you bastard?” Drew crossed the room in two strides, grasped the front of Collin’s shirt, and hauled him out of his chair. “What’s the real reason you came?”

  Collin’s claws ripped skin in an attempt to pry Drew’s fingers loose, but Drew was too strong.

  “Let him go!” Kenna shouted at her husband.

  Teeth descended on Collin’s throat, but the smaller man drove his knee hard into Drew’s groin. Though Drew grunted in pain, he didn’t release his hold. Both men gnashed their teeth. Their incisors sliced each other’s faces and hands.

  “Stop it!” Kenna bellowed, yanking Drew’s staff from its place on the wall. She struck her husband in the head with one end and her brother in the ribs with the other. They backed away from each other, panting, their eyes filled with rage, pain, and sorrow.

  “Collin, I think you should leave.” Kenna swallowed past the thickness in her throat. Such a request hurt, but she knew the two men could not live under the same roof.

  Nodding, Collin shrugged on his cloak, picked up his cat, and headed for the door. Tears shimmered in his eyes. Kenna longed to embrace him. She wished there was some way to make peace between the two people she loved most, but the rift was too deep and the emotions too powerful. Perhaps, like the scars left from Drew’s torture, his hatred toward Collin would never fade. Unfortunately for Kenna, neither would her love.

  As Collin opened the door, a gust of snowy wind blew inside. Another storm turned the world cold and white. She wondered how Collin would manage the journey to the nearest village.

  Once her brother left, Kenna cleared the table. Sniffing, she wiped her eyes on her shoulder.

 

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