Merrick by Claire Cray Page B

Apparently, it didn’t
work like that. Damned metaphors!
    Merrick reached up
and pushed his hood back, surprising me. He looked out over the marsh with an
expression that was at once distant and intent. Then he turned to me.
    “What luminous
eyes you have, sir,” I whispered without thinking, and was too wrapped up in
the fact of it to be embarrassed. Just as before, his eyes seemed to draw in
every scant surrounding trace of light to feed their golden hue. But here, in
the dark, they really seemed to glow from within.
    He turned fully
towards me and then slowly stepped forward.
    I stood frozen, my
mind swept clear for a moment as his handsome face dominated my vision. With
the first thought that returned, I wondered if he would kiss me again. My heart
thumped when he stopped before me and slowly reached up to gently slip his hand
around the back of my neck.
    “Do you want to go
back to the city?” he asked quietly.
    “The…” Those eyes!
“The city, sir?” They were extraordinary. A sparkling ring of copper ran
through the amber iris, shimmering like the golden rays of a sunrise more
beautiful than any real sunrise ever was.
    “I resolved your
mother’s situation some weeks past. The courts have forgotten her. She is
immune to any form of rebuke regardless of how your story proceeds.” His eyes
traveled over my face, then returned to mine before he continued softly. “If
you would like me to end your servitude and set you free, I will do so.”
    His words hit me
like a crack of thunder.
    Under his steady
gaze, I could not remain silent. I took a breath, confounded. “I…I thank you,
sir...” Hearing my mother was free of my predicament lifted a heavy weight from
my mind. And he was offering me my own freedom! But…
    But, what ?
    What in God’s name
did I want to say?
    He spoke before I
could try. “Then I will make the arrangements.”
    My eyes widened. I
had not meant… Had I?
    “And I hope you do
not feel this experience has set you back significantly.”
    “No,” I heard
myself whisper even as he finished. I shook my head, speechless, and then
repeated with bewildered emphasis, “ No .”
    “I am much
relieved,” he said quietly. His fingers played gently at the nape of my neck,
twining in the ends of my hair. He leaned closer then, slowly bringing his face
to within a few inches from mine. His index finger trailed down the side of my
throat.
    A strange feeling
of urgency was swelling inside of me. I turned my head upwards slightly,
aligning my features with his. I felt I must say something, and so I reached
for first clear thought in my mind. “Do you not think of drinking my blood,
sir?”
    “I ache for it,
William,” he whispered, and traced my vein again.
    My heart pounded
in my chest. “Would it kill me?”
    He shook his head
slowly, his thumb now stroking my lower lip. He was gazing at my mouth as
though fascinated. “But it would affect you,” he said quietly.
    I was fascinated
in turn. “How, sir?”
    “Do not follow
your curiosity here,” he murmured.
    “I can hardly
control it.”
    He looked back to
my eyes with a strange expression. “Am I correct in thinking that you would
allow me to drink your blood, William, out of curiosity?”
    I felt every pounding
beat of my heart within my ribs. Curiosity? No. It was not merely
curiosity I felt. It was something I dared not name – perhaps could not name.
    “Does that not
seem very foolish?” Merrick asked.
    I shook my head
stupidly.
    There was a faint
crease in his lovely brow. He parted his lips to speak and then closed them.
Finally he asked, in a tone of hopeless astonishment, “Why are you so open to
me?”
    I tore my eyes
from his, looking down at the few inches of ground between us, and let out a
quiet breath. “Certainly I am not the only one, sir.” I closed my eyes when I
felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. My hands twitched, longing to
reach for him.
    “I will arrange
for a coach tomorrow. You will depart