Page 101 of Kick the Candle (Knight Games 2)
"But you didn't know what I was?"
"You didn't know what you were, Grateful. True, you found out before I did, but in the beginning we were both innocent. We met daily after that. You taught me how to hunt and track game the Wampanoag way. I participated in your ceremonies. And we grew together. We became best friends, although my family in Red Grove never knew about you. They only knew that our pot was always full, long after the land gave out and the beginnings of starvation nipped at our community."
I squeezed his hand. "I saw the day Monk came for me in the Book of Light. I lived alone, in town. How did that happen?"
He turned away, to face the wall for a moment. "You are getting ahead of me. Wouldn't you like to hear about our first kiss?" When he turned his attention back on me, his face looked wistful, young.
I nestled lower into the pillows, capturing my bottom lip between my teeth and inhaling sharply at the surge of pain the movement cost me. Rick looked at me with concern. I nodded for him to continue.
"We were seventeen. A late kiss by today's standards, but Monk's parish was a conservative congregation. Most men didn't marry until their mid twenties and physical affection was tightly bound to marriage. Couples had to ask permission of an elder to marry. All very official and reserved. In your tribe, things were different. Any who took a liking to one another could marry; the girl must only demonstrate that she was capable of caring for young and most women of your tribe could by seventeen. And kissing? Your people loved to kiss."
"You're blushing!" The red tint to his cheeks was endearing. I tried to meet his eyes but he looked away.
"The couples in your tribe were quite affectionate. I was...enthralled. From an early age, you showed an aptitude for healing and knowledge of herbs, so you'd trained with the Wampanoag medicine woman. You took me home one day and introduced me to the leader of your tribe in your native language. I didn't know what you'd said, but he seemed very happy. You turned to me and asked if I would like to marry you, as you had obtained permission from your tribe. Then, in the plaza at the center of your community, you grabbed me by the collar, pulled me forward, and kissed me within an inch of my life." A broad smile spread across his face. "I felt it to my toes."
"Wait, I asked you to marry me? When I was seventeen?"
A low rumble shook his chest and he turned to face me. "You knew exactly what you wanted, Grateful, and after that kiss, if I hadn't before, I knew exactly what I wanted too. Forever."
Our eyes locked, and I tried to picture what it was like for us back then. I had a feeling there was more to the story, and by the way he reacted to my question about moving to town, that it wasn't particularly pleasant. What had we suffered together?
He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, then seemed to remember himself and retracted his hand. "I will get you something to drink. It is important for you to stay hydrated." He stood and retreated to the kitchen.
My First Engagement
Rick returned with a tall glass of ice water, slices of lime nestled among the ice cubes. Gently, he tipped me up to drink, then placed the glass on the nightstand.
"Refreshing. Thank you."
"You are welcome."
"Why are you Spanish?"
"Excuse me?"
"Puritans were English Protestants. I've never heard of a Spanish Puritan."
"It is true that we were a rarity of our time. My ancestors came over with the conquistadors and migrated north where they joined the Puritan settlers. In truth, my grandfather may have been a criminal, although it wasn't spoken of in my family. I believe he was escaping punishment. The Puritans welcomed my family's practical skills and strength. Survival was priority one for Monk's congregation, although I can't remember any of the English being overly welcoming. Perhaps that is why I spent my time in the woods with you."
I motioned for him to lie down next to me. He hesitated, staring at the empty sliver of bed. Through our connection, his emotions seemed muddled and dark. Being in someone's head isn't like talking to them. Sure, there were times Rick wanted me to know something, and the thoughts came across in complete sentences. But people didn't think that way naturally and today Rick's head was filled with a mixture of what I would describe as jealousy, possessiveness, hurt, anger, and resentment. I supposed he was still thinking about Logan but suppressing his emotions for my benefit. Grunting, I scooted over to give him more room. That was enough for him to stretch out and get comfortable next to me. Even without touching, the smell of him filled my nostrils, earth, pine, saltwater and honeysuckle. I breathed him in.
"Did you agree to marry me?" I asked, wanting to get him talking again. Truly, I would have liked the chance to explain about Logan, but Rick wasn't ready to hear it. Not yet.
He laced his fingers over his stomach. "Of course I did. I could no sooner part from you than my own arm. We were to be joined in the official way of the Wampanoag. I was prepared to disappear from my family forever, to live out my life with you and yours."
"But?"
"But, on the morning of our impending marriage, you met me at our pool, hysterical. You told me everyone in your tribe was dead."
"Dead?"
"Drained of their blood. Everyone we knew and loved, dead." His voice cracked.
"Vampires?"
"We didn't know what they were at the time. Vampires are predators and they followed their prey. Just like everyone else that migrated to Red Grove, they came here to feed because so many other places were ravaged by starvation."
"Why didn't the vampires kill me?"
