The Lighthouse

THE LIGHTHOUSE BY KATE HILL

SERIAL: THE LIGHTHOUSE PART ONE

Clouds of heat rose from bloody snow, oozing wounds, and the gaping mouths of those still breathing. Soldiers, locked in fatal embraces, sprawled on the field. Women, their necks twisted and broken, their torn skirts hiked up their blue-tinged thighs, lay in gory heaps.

The moon rose, glinting off the untouched white hills in the distance as Kenna waded through red-tinged slush. The smell of blood, fear, and death blended so that she could scarcely discern his scent.

Though nearly a year had passed since she’d last seen him, his aroma would never be forgotten. It was wild, powerful. So many times his musk had covered her skin, finer to her than a queen’s robe.

Kenna stumbled over a corpse, slipped on a patch of ice, and landed on her knees beside a half frozen body. Hearing the feeble heartbeat and the whispered prayers, she groped for the pitiful creature’s hand. She drew back from a sticky stump, blood already freezing in a red patch

beneath it.

She held her palm before her eyes, staring at liquid death, and liquid life. Her stomach twisted with hunger, but she resisted the urge to lick even a bit of blood from her hand. She didn’t want his crossing to be tainted.

After wiping her hand on her heavy brown cloak, she touched the dying slave’s shoulder. Though dressed in the uniform of a warrior, leather armor and metal helmet, a gore-covered sword at his side, he was a slave, fighting for his master’s cause.

She wanted to help him, but she only had the strength to restore one life that night and could simply offer this man comfort as he died.

Several moments after his last heartbeat, Kenna pushed herself to her feet and continued her search.

The night was unusually warm. Ice melted off nearby trees. Droplets of cold water thumped on the snow’s hard crust.

Finally she caught his scent, faint beneath blood and death.

Kenna dropped to the ground, crawling over corpses, until she reached him.

At first she thought him dead, but when she pressed her trembling lips to his, she felt the remains of his life, caught it, and drew it back before his soul disappeared into oblivion.

He rose, covered in bloody mail, and drank from her lips until she fainted in his crushing embrace. . .

***

“Storm’s coming.”

Kenna jumped, her heart racing, and tore her gaze from the snow-covered field. There was no blood now. The corpses had been buried for a hundred years, but her memories - her feelings - were still fresh.

She gazed at Drew for two complete seconds before leaping into

his arms. After so many years, after all the evil that had taken her innocence and stolen his sanity, she still loved him.

Tall and strong, with rangy limbs, eyes like dark blue iron, and a face that was more sensual than handsome, Drew never failed to make her body tingle and her teeth ache.

As his arms tightened around her, she buried her face in his long, chestnut hair.

“I’m so glad you made it back,” she whispered.

“I left as soon as their healer returned. It’s going to be a terrible storm.” Laughter rumbled in Drew’s chest as he dropped her on her feet and sauntered toward the lighthouse. “We’ll be buried alive. Buried dead. How shall we pass the time?”

Kenna ran her tongue over her sharp incisors. “I can think of a few ways.”

She slung her cloak over one arm and chased him toward their home of stone and wood beside the lighthouse.

SERIAL: THE LIGHTHOUSE PART TWO

Inside their one room cottage, Kenna turned down the quilt on the bed while Drew stoked the fire. Kenna shed her clothes and slipped beneath the covers, raising herself on her elbow to watch Drew. The flames flickered, casting shadows against his handsome face with its smooth brow and blade-sharp cheekbones. His dark blue eyes glistened, shining with intelligence and wildness that both attracted and frightened her.

He stood and shrugged off his wet cloak. As he undressed, his gaze fixed on her, filled with heat and lust that made her pulse quicken and her pussy ache. Naked, he approached the bed. Even after so many years, his body excited her as much as ever. Broad shoulders, the muscles chiseled beneath smooth, pale skin, were marvelous to clutch in the throes of passion. His solid chest, covered with a mat of dark hair that tapered down his muscle-ridged stomach seemed made

for a woman to caress. Kenna's pulse raced when she thought of entangling her legs with his long, powerful ones.

Slipping beneath the quilt, he covered her body with his. Kenna purred, loving the sensation of his warm flesh and rock-hard muscles against her. The pressure of his thick, velvet-skinned cock trapped between them made her shiver with desire.

"Do you remember when we first made love after the Change?" he whispered against her lips. "Our first time with fangs?"

"How could I forget?" Kenna smiled, sliding her arms up his back. "It was beautiful. As if every inch of my body was more alive and ready for pleasure than ever before. You felt hot, smooth in places and rough in others. How I ached for you."

"For what?" His eyes burned into hers.

"For your cock deep inside me. For your teeth on

my neck."

"Yes." He brushed his cheek against hers and used the tip of his tongue to trace the shape of her ear. Taking the lobe between his teeth, he bit gently then buried his face in the hollow of her shoulder.

Kenna's eyes slipped shut. Her legs parted and wrapped around him. Just touching him and hearing his deep, masculine voice had her wet and oh-so-ready. She ran her feet up and down his hair-roughened calves. "I want to feel you deep inside me right now. My love. My Drew."

"Kenna," he said then covered her mouth with his. His lips felt so warm and his beard tickled her skin. Thrusting her tongue into his mouth, she explored every warm, wet corner and crevice. She pierced it on one of his fangs. At the taste of her blood, both of them shuddered with desire.

Drew tenderly stroked her hip and inched down her body. Taking one of her nipples between his lips, he

lapped and sucked until the flesh grew pebble hard. Every lash of his tongue sent a stab of desire through her entire body. Her clit tingled and her pulse raced.

Sliding down even lower, Drew lifted her legs over his head and settled between her thighs. At the first wicked swipe of his tongue over her clit, Kenna moaned.

"Oh, yes! Drew, yes!" she gasped, entangling her fingers in his thick, dark hair.

He licked one side of her clit then the other. Using the flat of his tongue, he pressed rhythmically upon the little bud of flesh until she writhed. Nearing her climax, she pressed his head closer, her breath coming in ragged pants.

Suddenly he tugged away. Bracing a forearm on either side of her head, he covered her body with his.

"Look at me," he commanded.

She opened her eyes and stared into his dark blue ones as he circled her entrance with the tip of his cock before sliding slowly inside her drenched pussy.

"My love," he said before kissing her deeply while thrusting, long and slow, into her aroused body.

Purring with desire, Kenna clung to him, her fingers sinking into the flexing muscles of his back as she bit his shoulder hard. The taste of his blood and the pounding of his body into hers flung her into orgasm.

"Ah!" he cried, his thrusts increasing. He rammed into her, fast and hard, as she wrapped her legs around him and drank of his sweet, sweet blood.

***

Kenna snuggled deeper into the quilt draped around her shoulders and stared out the window at the falling snow. She smiled, remembering the winters of her childhood, when she, Drew, and her brother, Collin,

would frolic until their cheeks turned red, their noses ran, and their eyelashes frosted. Those memories seemed so long ago. There had been a time when the three of them had been inseparable. Collin was her twin, and she loved him more than anyone - except Drew. Collin was half her mind, but Drew was half her soul. That explained why she sat, miles from the nearest settlement, satisfied from marvelous lovemaking but with a bit of her spirit longing for the past.

She closed her eyes, picturing the last time she, Drew, and Collin had stood together in harmony.

“I’m going to marry her.” Drew had kissed the back of Kenna’s hand as she pressed close to his side.

"I wish it for you.” Collin had shaken his head. “Not only will Father never allow it, but you’ve been raised by monks, Drew.”

“Doesn’t mean I have any intention of becoming one. They’ve trained me as a healer, and though I still have more to learn, I can make a life for Kenna.”

Collin hadn’t argued. Though he and Kenna were the only children of a wealthy lord and accustomed to a lifestyle far above commoners, their father was insane and abusive. He starved for more power than he already possessed. Becoming even a healer’s wife would be an improvement over the indignities and violence both Kenna and Collin had suffered all their lives.

“I couldn’t care less what your father will or will not allow,” Drew had continued. “I don’t care how far we have to travel.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you.” Collin had stared at the couple, the expression in his large, blue eyes so soft that Kenna never imagined him intentionally harming anyone.

Kenna had never doubted her brother’s intentions, but his intentions were no match for his fears.

Kenna moved from the window and dropped the quilt

on the bed. She pulled on trousers, boots, and a woolen shirt. Bundling herself in her cloak, still damp from earlier that evening, she walked outside.

She needed no lantern to guide her in the darkness. The dim moonlight clawing its way through the storm was enough to lead her to the forest’s edge.

SERIAL: THE LIGHTHOUSE PART THREE

Sheltered by trees, Drew stood shirtless, his trousers rolled up his hair-roughened calves, his bare feet balanced on a bed of hot coals, as he twirled and struck the air with a wooden fighting staff. In spite of the freezing weather, sweat beaded on Drew’s forehead and sinewy chest. Snowflakes hissed on the coals. The fiery bed would soon be cool when the trees could no longer protect the ground from the snow.

"I’m going to check the lighthouse," Kenna said.

Drew stepped off the coals and glanced at her,

running his hands along the staff. "I’ll come with you. The weather will be picking up soon. Once it does, ships might not even see the light. It looks like a flower."

He slipped his shirt over his head. Kenna reached up and fastened the ties across his chest, enjoying the heat of his body, a most pleasant sensation in the midst of the cold. She brushed a damp lock of hair from his brow and asked, "What does?"

"The light when you’re on the sea. Don’t you think it looks like a flower?"

Kenna considered the beacon when seen from the deck of a ship. "Yes, I suppose it does."

"A bud still tight." His hand slid up her back. "Still young and alive. Or maybe it’s really dead. Frozen in the purest state, when it’s strongest. Funny that flowers aren’t most

beautiful that way. Only when they’re in full bloom, preparing for death, are they at their loveliest."

He slipped into his cloak, picked up his staff, and walked with her to the tower. They lit the beacon fire and sat for several moments, gazing at the churning winter sea crashing on the rocks.

"I can almost taste the salt," Drew said.

"So can I," Kenna whispered, inching closer to him. She parted her cloak and tilted her head, exposing her smooth, white neck. "Taste my salt."

Drew bent his head to her throat and brushed his lips gently over her flesh before biting. He uttered a soft groan as he held her, sipping. Kenna tugged at his cloak, unfastened the ties of his billowy shirt and slipped it down his arm. Her teeth found his shoulder, and she

drank his rich, sweet blood. She’d tasted the blood of others before him, but no one else’s since. Her first drink had been from the beautiful, dark-skinned woman who had shone her the life of a vampire. She and Collin had been a gift to her from their father in exchange for the power she offered him.

"Give me your children and I swear you’ll never lose another war," she’d promised and delivered.

He’d given her Collin and Kenna, and they had killed their father before he saw the end of another battle. Still, in spite of their efforts, the damage had already been done. Drew had been torn from his healing and forced to don armor, but only after withstanding the tortures of the Lord’s dungeon. Drew refused to fight, but the Lord coveted his stunning height, powerful body, and quick mind.

"He’s made for battle," the Lord had said.

"Healing is for women."

Kenna had done everything in her power to free Drew, but she wasn’t allowed access to the dungeon. Collin could have entered at will and helped Drew escape, but terror of his father overcame him. His childhood companion - his sister’s lover - was left to beatings, starvation, hot pincers, and degradations Kenna understood all too well.

Her love for her brother had never waned, but her respect for him dissipated. They grew apart. He never told her when Drew was taken from the dungeon and thrust into the cavalry.

The dark woman had come shortly before the battle in which Drew nearly died. Kenna remembered the only ornament she wore. A ruby the size of a walnut glistened in the pit of her throat. Her eyes shone like polished stones. Her lips were full and burgundy. A mass of wild ebony hair hung halfway down her slender back.

To Kenna’s surprise, the woman had frightened the Lord with her haunting expression and her predictions read from curling little leaves in a bowl of tea. Kenna and Collin had been apprehensive of her as well, but for some inexplicable reason, Kenna trusted her. What she couldn’t understand was why a woman of obvious power would ally herself with a man as greedy and wicked as the Lord.

The woman had come to destroy him and offer his children a new life. She’d left them so quickly after the change that Kenna never had the chance to thank her.

Kenna withdrew her teeth from Drew’s neck and rested in his arms, listening to the sound of their slowing breath, the rhythm of their heartbeats, and the echo of waves breaking on the rocks. She inhaled his arousing, musky scent, her insides tingling with passion.

"We should go back to the house," he said.

Kenna stirred and looked outside.

Snow fell heavily. By morning they would be nearly buried.

Walking from the lighthouse, Kenna glanced at the field behind them. She paused, squinting against the swirling squalls. A figure trudged through the storm.

"Drew - "

"I see him. Go back to the house."

"I’m going with you."

Together they approached the black-cloaked traveler. The man looked up and Kenna momentarily forgot to breathe. Large, wide-set blue eyes, as familiar to Kenna as her own, stared at her.

"Collin!" she cried, reaching for him.

His arms tightened around her. She wasn’t sure how long they stood in the winter night, locked in a powerful embrace. When they parted, she looked for Drew, but he was already halfway to the house, his back rigid, fury apparent in his long strides.

"What are you doing here?" Kenna asked her brother.

"I know I shouldn’t have come, but I hoped after so many years he might have calmed."

Kenna shook her head, anger at past hurts warring with the happiness of seeing her twin again. "His rage fades as easily as the scars left by the torture chamber."

"But those scars won’t fade."

Kenna nodded. "Come to the house and wait out the storm."

She wondered if it was possible for Collin and Drew to exist under the same roof for even a short time, or would one of them most likely Collin - end up truly dead?

SERIAL: THE LIGHTHOUSE PART FOUR

Kenna opened the door of the house and stepped inside, Collin behind her. They stomped their snowy boots and shook ice from their cloaks.

Drew squatted by the fire, turning the burning wood with a poker.

“There’s a terribly familiar reek in here, my love,” Drew said, his back to them.

Kenna swallowed, willing her heartbeat to slow. She sensed her husband’s anger, saw it in his rigid spine, and smelled it on the air. Drew’s temper was not something to be trifled with, and she knew the next moments would be crucial for all of them.

Kenna motioned for Collin to remain by the door as she removed her cloak and approached Drew. She placed her hands on his shoulders. His muscles tensed beneath her palms, refusing to relax even when her fingers massaged gently.

“Drew,” she began.

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

“There’s a storm outside.”

“Is there really?” Drew said with mock innocence. “And I thought it was a sweet summer night. I said, what is he doing here?”

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

“Did I speak to you?” Drew bellowed. His fangs lengthened and fists clenched as he stood. The scent of his fury filled the room.

“Drew, please.” Kenna stepped in front of him and pressed her hands against his chest as he advanced on Collin, growling like a furious wolf.

Collin didn’t change his position, but his lips drew back slightly over 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! This is an act of war!”

“Drew, there is no war!” Kenna threw 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?”

“I don’t know.”

“He could die out there.”

Drew folded his arms across his chest, a smile tugging at his lips. His white teeth gleamed 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 as he said, “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, shooting a look of pure hatred at Collin, turned back to the fire and 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’s the only reason why 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 the chair nearest 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.

Collin’s eyes widened with horror. “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 screamed, though its feet didn’t touch the flames. Kenna took a step forward. “Drew. . .”

“Do you remember?” Drew demanded, his gaze fixed 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 seemed impossible

to breathe. They’d close the door. The only water came from tears and sweat. Sometimes they used flames to heat irons.” Drew continued stroking the cat. His unblinking eyes brimmed with moisture.

Kenna clenched her teeth, momentarily furious with her brother for his visit. 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, 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 in the lighthouse when the old keeper had died.

How Collin had found them bewildered her. As much as she was pleased to see him, the pain his presence caused Drew was difficult to accept.

“Then they’d hold the irons to our flesh,” Drew continued. “We could hear it, smell it, and 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 as Drew had been tortured so viciously.

“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 chest. A

hundred years was such a long time.

“I’ve missed you,” Collin said, “so much.”

Kenna nodded, her look expressing the words she dared not speak for fear of upsetting Drew further. Already he was staring at the siblings, his jaw locked.

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 in hers and tugged. His palms were sticky were his claws had sliced his own 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 was already asleep. “It’s 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 made them stronger and their resistance more powerful, but they were not invulnerable. They still felt, 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.

SERIAL: THE LIGHTHOUSE PART FIVE

At dusk, Kenna’s eyes blinked open and she 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.”

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 noticed the metal tub across the room was filled. She swished her hand in the warm water before slipping off her shift and sinking beneath the steaming surface. When she’d 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 had been.

Inside, Drew stoked the fire while Kenna served the meal. Collin sat at the table. The cat jumped onto his lap, purring softly and digging her claws into his knees.

From across the room, Drew scowled as he watched 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 said with pride.

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 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’s voice was soft, his eyes distant.

“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 her husband finally seemed to be warming to her again, she placed aside the teakettle she held and slid her arms around his neck. “What have you done, Collin?”

“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 in a way. 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 the whole truth, but it won’t offend Collin’s delicate sensibilities.”

“I understand your anger.”

“Don’t you dare!” Drew’s teeth clenched. His incisors gouged 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!”

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

Drew snorted with contempt.

“Where have you been, Collin?” Kenna asked, sensing 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 both of you gone, I had no one, but I had guilt.”

Drew snarled, but Kenna shushed her husband and stroked 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 on the island. It was a leper colony.”

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

“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 told him.

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 learn 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 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 snapped. “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.”

“It’s not as if we’re truly immortal,” Drew stated. “We can die. You can die.”

“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!”

“Only family! 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 glinted 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 had begun. She wondered how Collin would manage the journey to the nearest village.

Once Collin had gone, Kenna began clearing the table. Sniffing, she wiped her eyes on her shoulder.

“Kenna.” Drew touched her back, but she jerked away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Obviously neither of you can control your urges.”

“He—”

“Is gone. So you can be happy.”

“You think I’m happy?”

“No, I don’t.” She sighed. “You can give so much to other people, but you’re bent on destroying yourself.”

“And I’m taking you with me, is that it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Do you want to go with Collin, or better yet, do you want him to stay here and me to go?” If he hadn't sounded so sincere, his question would havemade her furious.

The door burst open. Collin stood, covered with frost, his expression frantic. “Ship’s crashed against the rocks. It’s going down fast.”

SERIAL: THE LIGHTHOUSE PART SIX

“The ship probably couldn’t see the beacon through the storm, that's why it's going down.” Kenna tossed Drew his cloak and donned her own.

Outside, the vampires’ keen vision enabled them to see through the squalls. As Collin had said, a ship was already more than halfway down.

“Doubt there’s any survivors,” Drew said as he led the way to the slippery rocks.

“There!” Collin pointed at two heads bobbing in the freezing water.

“I’ll get some rope.” Kenna forced her way through the thigh-deep snow toward the lighthouse.

Drew and Collin shed their cloaks and leapt into the water. By the time Kenna returned, Drew had hauled two stiffening bodies to the rocks. She stooped between them, ignoring their glassy eyes and purple mouths leaking seawater. She felt for pulses and listened for heartbeats. Both were dead.

Drew knelt beside her, catching his breath and shivering. Kenna reached for his cloak and draped it over his shoulders.

“Where’s Collin?” she asked.

They searched the water. Collin surfaced momentarily before disappearing beneath the cold, black waves, but Kenna noticed his panicked expression.

“Damn it!” Kenna slipped off her robe. “He never could swim well!”

“Neither can you!” Drew grasped her arms hard before she dove in.

“He’ll die!” she snarled, eyes gleaming and her claws sinking into Drew’s hands. “Let me go!”

Drew’s grip was unyielding.

She screamed, “If he dies, I’ll never forgive you! Never!”

Drew’s teeth clenched and he flung her onto the rocks. “If you feel that way, I’ll get him!”

“Then do it!”

Drew slipped back into the sea. Several moments later, he broke the surface, dragging Collin with him. Kenna helped pull them both onto the rocks. Collin, nearly unconscious, coughed up water. Drew half dragged him back to the house and shoved him inside.

Collin braced his hands against the table before he struck the floor. He stared at Drew with unfocused eyes. “You saved my life.”

Kenna tossed more wood into the fire, making the flames blaze. “You both better get out of those clothes before you freeze to death.”

Collin took two steps toward the fire and stumbled to his knees.

Kenna instantly stooped beside him. “You need blood. When is the last time you fed?”

“I’m fine.”

Kenna offered him her wrist. When he hesitated, she touched it to his lips. As she’d guessed, he was desperate for blood, particularly after the energy he’d expelled trying to keep from drowning. It had been years since anyone but Drew had taken her blood, and the sensation was strange. She lifted her free hand and stroked Collin’s cropped hair.

A soft, pained sound from across the room caused Kenna to glance over her shoulder. Drew wore a look of agonized fury. Long, wet curls dripped down his forehead and cheeks. Like Collin, his lips were pale and his teeth chattered, but rage forced a hint of color to into the ridges of his high cheekbones.

Collin withdrew from her, a drop of blood staining the corner of his mouth, his eyes tainted with sorrow.

“Drew.” Kenna stood and reached for him. He hissed, his sharp teeth gleaming.

“Drew, where are you going?” Kenna hurried to keep up with her husband’s long strides as he snatched his staff from the wall and left the house. She caught his arm. “Drew!”

“Get your hands off me!” He shoved her so hard that she landed on her back in a snowdrift. Reflexively, he reached for her, then seemed to think better of it. With the swiftness of a deer, he bounded across the white field.

Tears left a hot trail down Kenna’s cheeks, and she brushed them away as she turned back to the house. Collin stood in the doorway.

“Drew was right. I shouldn’t have come.” Collin reached for his wet cloak. “I have to find him. He can’t stay out there.”

“The last person he wants to see is you.” Kenna ushered him back inside. “Take off those wet clothes and go to bed. I’ll find him.”

“I’m not letting you go alone.”

“You’ll do what I tell you!”

She pulled on a fresh cloak. Before leaving, sheglanced over her shoulder at Collin who lay on the floor, draped in a blanket, the cat rubbing against his legs.

“Kenna, please believe me. I’m sorry about everything that happened to Drew.”

She sighed and knelt beside him. The expression in his eyes was so soft and honest. She knew his soul, just as she knew Drew’s. Her feelings for them made her own life nearly impossible.

“I know, Collin.” She kissed his cheek, her face brushing his before she left the house.

A black form scurried ahead of her. The cat.

“Come back here! You’ll get lost and freeze!” Kenna called to the animal. She shook her head, not having the time to worry about a cat. To her surprise, the feline followed Drew’s tracks to the wood.

SERIAL: THE LIGHTHOUSE PART SEVEN

Kenna’s eyes adjusted easily to the darkening forest. She was grateful that the snow had thinned and the trees offered some protection against the wind. Finally, she caught Drew’s scent and followed it to a clearing where he stood, spinning his staff and striking at air, tree trunks, and a snow-dusted boulder. Kenna wrapped her arms tightly around her chest. She’d grown accustomed to working around Drew’s many moods, but there were times when even she didn't know how to reach him.

A loud meow from the cat nabbed Kenna’s attention, and also Drew’s. He stopped, staff at his side, his panting breath creating visible clouds in the cold. Kenna thought for sure he’d chase off Collin’s pet, but to her surprise, he stooped, placed the staff on the ground beside him, and picked up the cat. He held it close, his large hands nearly concealing its entire body.

Kenna swallowed, her throat tight, ashamed that an animal knew how to approach her husband better than she did. Stepping into the clearing, she knelt beside Drew an slipped her arms around his neck. His clothes were half frozen from the seawater, and he trembled violently, though from more than just the cold.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s not your fault that you love him.”

“I do love him.”

He half sobbed, subdued it, and tried to push her away. She refused to let him go.

“But I don’t love him like I love you.” She pressed her face to his shoulder. This was Drew, her first lover, the man who, for her sake, had jump into an icy sea to rescue someone he hated.

“Please come home with me, and if you never want me to see Collin again, I won’t. I swear it.”

Their gazes met. She knew he didn’t believe her, but he loved her regardless. If only she could wipe away the past.

Together, they walked back to the house. Collin glanced at them when they entered, but he knew better than to speak. Kenna tossed her cloak aside and helped Drew remove his clothes since his hands shivered so badly he could scarcely manage the ties on his shirt. She undressed to her shift, then slipped into bed beside him and dragged the blankets up to their necks. Beneath the covers, her hand roamed over his chest and arms, caressing him, warming him. Her fingertips touched the ridges and holes of old scars.

“I love you, Drew,” she whispered, shifting her position so that her throat hovered over his lips. Her nipples brushed his chest, stiffening from arousal as well as from the coldness of his skin. Their legs entwined and their bodies pressed closer, trapping his erection between them. Kenna moaned softly, trembling with need at the first touch of his tongue stroking her neck. When his teeth pierced her flesh, she closed her eyes and clung to him. There was no feeling in the world like his bite and no taste like his blood.

SERIAL: THE LIGHTHOUSE CONCLUSION

Kenna awoke before Drew or Collin. She left the bed carefully, not wanting to disturb Drew's sleep, and began picking up the clothes strewn across the floor. When she picked up Collin's cloak, an old piece of parchment dropped from its folds. Her stomach tightened as she recognized the seal. Not even caring that she was tampering with her brother's property, she broke the seal. Her eyes widened as she read the words written in her father's hand a century ago. When she finished reading, she realized Collin was watching her from where he lay on the floor.

"I was going to help Drew when she came."

"The vampire?"

Collin nodded. "She offered a better life for all of us. Even better than what that paper promised."

"Not to Drew. Why didn't you ever give this to him?"

"He'd have torn out my throat before even breaking the seal."

"Were you going to give it to him now?"

"It doesn't matter. It's best if I go as soon as the storm clears. I've caused enough trouble between you. I should know by now that nothing can ever return to the way it

was."

"How did you manage to make Father write this?"

Collin looked haunted by the memory. "It wasn't easy, but it was better than attempting to help Drew escape. This way, everything was legal."

"Drew should know about this."

"No! It's only a reminder of what was. My presence is unbearable to him. I know that now."

"Drew should know about what?" Drew sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his trousers. He glanced at the parchment in Kenna's hand.

"What is that?"

Kenna glanced helplessly at Collin who shook his head.

"What is it?" Drew demanded, grasping Kenna's wrist and attempting to uncurl her fingers from the letter. Her hand loosened when she saw the jealously in his eyes.

He glanced over the parchment, then read it again. He squashed it in his fist. "It's a fake."

"It's not a fake," Collin stated.

"Some say I'm mad, but I'm not a fool! You think by showing me this I'd forget what's between us?"

"He didn't want to show you anything," Kenna said.

"And you believed him?"

"It's my father's handwriting."

Drew's jaw clenched.

Collin jerked on his clothes. "I'm going. You won't see me again."

Kenna and Drew remained silent. Collin shoved his feet into his boots, his eyes glittering and his teeth clenched. "Fake! What I paid for that piece of parchment is no less than what you paid in my father's prison. He collected from us both!"

"That bastard never would have signed this document!"

"He would have when he was drunk after a night of debauchery in his chamber doing to me what he'd done to countless slaves and whores!" Collin slammed his fists against the wall, causing the window to tremble. He picked the longest, sharpest knife from the top of the cupboard and thrust it, handle out, at Drew. "Take it. If you believe that document is forged, then kill me. According to you I deserve it. Take my heart, Drew. It's yours."

Drew didn't move.

Collin took his brother-in-law's hand and forced the knife into it.

Drew flung the weapon onto the table and turned to the fire. He extended the parchment toward the flames, then changed his mind. He smoothed the letter and read it again. Silently, he placed it in the wooden trunk at the foot of the bed and sat, his hands on his knees.

"Why didn't you ever tell me you bought my freedom?"

"I doubt you'd have let me close enough to speak without killing me."

The slightest smile tugged at Drew's lips. "You're right."

"I'm sorry for what happened to you. Truly sorry, but there's nothing more I can say or do, so I'll go." Collin reached for his cloak.

"You don't have to leave," Drew said. Kenna's eyes darted from her brother to her husband. Drew reached for her hand, and she squeezed it. "My wife has an attachment to you. I hear that happens often with twins."

"But it's just as true with unions of our blood," said a vaguely familiar voice from across the room.

The three companions stared at the open doorway. A tall, dark skinned vampire stood naked against a backdrop of snow, her hair a gleaming mass of spirals halfway down

her back.

She smiled, wolfish teeth shining against her lips. "I knew I chose wisely. Children -and grandchildren -" she nodded in Drew's direction, "such as you make a woman proud. Use your vampiric gifts, and keep the beacon burning, for I'm never far away."

She disappeared so quickly that none of them saw her move, but when they ran to the door, they noticed the silhouette of the cat scampering in front of the lighthouse, then it disappeared into the dark wood beyond.

"We're no longer enemies?" Collin hesitantly extended his hand to Drew who grasped it firmly.

"No longer."

Smiling, Kenna embraced Collin, then slipped her arms around Drew's neck and covered his mouth with a kiss so deep and passionate that she sensed he would never again doubt the purity of her love.

The End