vonHelfin

XXI

Absently, I combed my fingers through Ranulf's luxuriant dark hair. He glanced upward, his brown eyes pleading. My heart thumped wildly in my chest. Tenderly, my lips formed his name.

"Ranulf." I liked the sound of it on my lips. I repeated it in a whisper and held him tighter.

I desired him, longed for him with the insistence of a woman desperately in love. Gently lifting him to his feet, I laced my arms around his neck and strained toward him, my body eager for love. Our lips met momentarily. Then, he roughly threw me aside.

"Norah..." Ranulf choked on my name. Emotion etched his pallid features, and a lone tear hung from his lashes. "I... I'm sorry."

Aghast, I stared up at him. I sat up and rubbed my elbow. A deep purple bruise appeared following my collision against the fireplace fender. Ranulf instantly squatted beside me.

"I didn't mean to harm you," he explained, solemnly kissing my injury. "I'm sorry."

Silence hung between us. His anguished expression eclipsed my annoyance concerning his sudden rough treatment. Reaching out, I caressed his arm tenderly.

"I will never become the man you wish for," the Baron's ward whispered. Raw emotion filled his voice. A hangdog expression filled his face. "I cannot love you as a man loves a woman. I cannot fulfill you or produce children."

"Ranulf..." I began, gnawing my lower lip. His abrupt confession shattered me.

"I am dead and alive simultaneously, Norah," he continued, casting his dark eyes toward the carpeted floor. "We live by night and thrive upon human blood for nourishment. And, so, you see, I cannot love you in the way you expect. I haven't a man's ability to make love to you."

Leaning against the fireplace mantle, Ranulf suddenly slammed his fist against it. Then, he buried his head in his folded arms. I approached him comfortingly, but he shunned me.

"Ever since I first met you, I longed to become a man...a real man," the Baron's ward continued, sobbing. Angrily, he palmed his face, wiping away his tears. "I have never felt emotion until I encountered you. There is something inside me that yearns to break free."

"If I can help you, I will," I promised, leaning my head against his shoulder blade. "Tell me what to do?"

"There is nothing," my companion sulked, "nothing you can do."

"But surely, there's a way out," I stated determinedly.

"Uncle Nicolai has long sought a solution," the nephew countered. "If there were a way out, he would find it."

"I will find a solution," I vowed, clutching my fisted hands. "I promise you, Ranulf, I promise."

The Baron's ward spun on me, his expression fierce. He advanced, and I stepped backward, fearing his sudden anger. Then, he stopped and spread his hands beseechingly.

"How can you help?" he asked, his defeated voice barely a whisper. "We became trapped in this situation years ago—centuries. Uncle has searched for a solution since our dilemma first began. He has traveled the world and tracked every lead. He has failed at every attempt."

"Centuries?" I muttered, my voice rising with hysteria. Helga used the word centuries frequently. I dismissed her exaggeration quickly. Ranulf's use of the word stunned me.

"1232, Norah," my companion stated, "the year of our infection. We strive by night, half alive, half dead. We go on and on without end. Each day adds to the centuries of our never-ending existence."

"Helga..." I began.

"Helga, Mrs. Balan, Godoired Cazacu—they are all under Uncle's spell," Ranulf explained, "They live by Uncle's will; they serve us when necessary. When..."