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"Do not be afraid, Monica," he whispered. "I will not hurt you."
He brushed her hair aside, stroked the smoothness of her throat with his fingertips, then lowered his head to her neck. Her sweetness filled his mouth as his fangs pierced her tender flesh. In the beginning, after he knew what he had become, he had been certain that feeding would be repugnant, had feared he would perish rather than succumb to the hunger that compelled him to such repulsive behavior. Ah, how wrong he had been!
He drank his fill, erased the memory of what had happened from her mind, and sent her back to bed.
After leaving the estate, he spent the next few hours wandering through the deep shadows of the night, listening to the sounds that mortals never heard— the whisper of a spider spinning its web, the sighing of the earth as it turned, the sleepy moan of a tree as it stretched its branches toward the sky.
It was a beautiful thing, the night, with a life and a soul of its own. He had wandered the world by the light of the moon, marveling at the wonders of the ages— the Great Pyramid of Giza, the Sphinx, ancient castles and cathedrals and bridges built by men long turned to dust. He had seen the invention of so many modern wonders— cars and airplanes, computers and satellites, bombs capable of wiping out the whole of civilization.
So many things that, in his time, had been impossible, undreamed of, or even imagined. When he had walked the earth as a mortal man, there had been no time or thought for anything but the work of surviving from day to day. There had been sheep and cattle to tend, seed to be sown, weeds to uproot, crops to be watered and harvested. In those days, he had worked alongside his father and his two brothers, toiling from sunup until sundown to provide food for his mother and his five sisters. There had been little time for anything else, until he had met Atiyana.
He shook his musings aside, his body tingling with the familiar warning that preceded the sun's rising.
It was time to return to his lair.
Brenna Flanagan's image lingered in his mind as he prepared to take his rest. That was not particularly strange, since she had been constantly in his thoughts, but what amazed him, even in sleep, was that her image stayed with him while he was trapped in the deathlike slumber of his kind.
He had not dreamed since the night the Dark Trick had been wrought upon him. One minute he was awake, the next he was lost in forgetful darkness, and when the sun quit the sky, he woke again, instantly mindful of his surroundings.
But on this night, for the first time since he had received the Dark Gift, he dreamed. He was aware of the miracle of such a thing even as the images unfolded in his mind. He was standing outside a circle of evergreen trees. Within the grove, he saw a slender young woman with fiery red hair and deep green eyes flecked with gold. As he watched, she began a slow, sensuous dance, her only covering the waist-length hair that fell down her back and over her shoulders, shimmering like veils of crimson silk in the silvery light of the full moon. A necklace of amber and jet circled her slender throat. She lifted her face toward the heavens, her eyes shining like priceless gems. Laughter rose in her throat, a sound of such joy and exuberance that, even trapped in the Dark Sleep, it brought a smile to his lips.
He moved toward her, darkness to her light.
She stopped dancing as he approached. A large black cat padded silently out of the shadows to rub itself against her legs.
Roshan paused when he was an arm's length away. The woman's gaze met his, bold and unafraid, a small smile curving her lips.
"'Tis you," she whispered.
Startled by her words, he took another step forward, one arm outstretched. "You know me? How can that be?"
But her answer was lost to him as the Dark Sleep dragged him down, down, into oblivion.
On waking, her picture was the first thing he sought. He gazed into her eyes. Green eyes. Slightly slanted, like a cat's.
'Tis you.
He heard the sound of her voice in his head. Soft and low, with a husky quality that he found incredibly sexy.
Going into his library, he searched the shelves until he found a volume on witchcraft. It spoke of casting spells and magick. There was herbal magick, candle magick, animal magick, and elemental magick. Some magick was best worked during a particular phase of the moon. There was talk of rituals and chants, of altars that could be adorned with dried or fresh flowers, seashells, crystals, pictures, and incense. Some chants were spoken, others set to music. Reading on, he learned that the purpose of the chant was to help the witch focus on that which she desired. It also helped to build the energy needed to cast the spell. Dancing was another way to build energy. He recalled that there were those who claimed to have seen Brenna Flanagan dancing naked in the moonlight.
Another section was devoted to the tools used by witches. The Athame was a black-handled knife made of iron or steel that was used to cast a circle or invoke certain spells. Since herbs shouldn't be cut with iron or steel, witches also possessed an herb knife made of copper or silver. Of course, no witch could pursue her art without a cauldron which was used for cooking raw ingredients and creating something new. Most witches owned a special cup, made of silver, wood, or clay, for use in certain rituals. The book also mentioned pentacles, necklaces, and wands. And brooms. He'd never really imagined witches flying around on broomsticks. According to the book, brooms were used to sweep away negative energy before casting a spell.
When he came to a chapter on the signs of the moon, his curiosity was naturally aroused, for the moon, after all, played a big part in his life. According to the author, the moon was believed to create different energies that affected day-to-day life. Aries was a good time for starting things. It was believed that things begun in a Taurus moon lasted longer; things begun in Gemini were easily changed by outside influences; Cancer was a time for growth and nurturing, a time to take care of domestic needs; Leo's emphasis was on one's self; Virgo focused on health. Libra smiled on friendship and partnership; Scorpio brought an awareness of psychic power; Sagittarius favored flights of fancy and imagination; Capricorn was heavy on traditions; Aquarius was a time for breaking habits; Pisces focused on dreaming and psychic impressions.
Each day of the week was influenced not only by a planet, but colors as well. The moon ruled Monday, bringing peace and healing. The colors associated with that day were gray and silver, lavender and white. Mars ruled Tuesday with passion and courage; warlike colors of red, white, black, and gray were associated with that day. Mercury influenced Wednesdays, bringing an inclination for study and travel; its colors were mild— peach and yellow, white and brown. Jupiter ruled on Thursday, leaning toward expansion and prosperity; Thursday's colors were lush— turquoise and white, green and violet; Friday belonged to Venus and curried love, beauty, and friendship. Colors associated with Friday were muted—rose and pink, peach and white.
