PROLOGUE
The evil grows. I can feel its dark touch.
-Entry from the diary of Henry de Montfort,
September 2, 1068
«Mark!” She awoke screaming her twin brother's name.
She turned on her bedside lamp with hands that shook. Her gaze flew frantically around her bedroom, and her heart seemed to stop.
She didn't see her furniture. She didn't see the antique cherry dresser or chest. She didn't see the stacks of books that lined her shelves, shelves lovingly made by her grandfather's hands.
She just saw the blood.
And it was everywhere.
And she felt the evil. The overwhelming evil.
She closed her eyes, desperate to stop the vision.
A man's terror-filled scream echoed in her mind.
«No!” She shoved her covers aside and jumped from the bed.
In a flash, the vision ended.
She could see her room again. Cloaked in shadows, but recognizable nonetheless.
Her heartbeat pounded desperately in her ears. Her body shook with remembered fear.
Had it been a dream? Just a dream?
She shook her head. It couldn't have been a dream. It'd felt … too real.
She had a sudden desperate urge to call Mark. To hear his voice.
She reached for the phone.
A shrill ring froze her hand.
Her heart stopped.
The phone rang again, its cry eerily like the scream from her dream.
Her fingers shook as she lifted the receiver. “H-hello?»
As she listened to the caller, all of the blood drained from her face. Her body swayed and the phone dropped from her nerveless fingers.
Strange icy prickles shot across her skin. Lights flashed before her eyes.
Her body fell to the floor.
And she stumbled back into the dreams of a dead man.
CHAPTER 1
Like a child, I fear the darkness.
-Entry from the diary of Henry de Montfort,
September 8, 1068
Savannah Daniels gathered her strength and pulled herself over the high granite wall. She slipped over its edge and fell to the ground, landing with a soft thud. Blood covered her body and her torn clothes.
It was a miracle that she'd made it up the mountain.
Her small rental car had died on her hours ago. Halfway up the treacherous mountain road, it had sputtered once and then stopped. Steam had burst from beneath the Toyota's hood. No amount of begging, pleading or cursing had been able to start the engine again.
She'd gotten out of the car, and she'd done the only thing that she could. She'd walked. For miles, she'd walked along the graveled road. Walked until her feet ached, until blisters grew on her heels and toes.
She'd kept walking, long after the graveled road had ended. She'd climbed under the barbed wire fence, ripping her clothes and the skin of her arms and back.
The stone wall had been her last hurdle. The last obstacle in her path.
She could see the house now, its imposing stone structure standing stark and strong against the mountain.
Thin streams of light shone from its high, Gothic windows. The light seemed to beckon her, promising her safety from the dark night, if only she would come inside.
For a moment, the howling of the wind quieted, and Savannah stared in silence at what lay before her.
She knew what she would find inside the walls of that house.
A monster.
A man.
A demon.
A savior.
For the past six months, she'd researched him carefully. She'd learned every detail that she could about William Dark. Every horrifying detail.
Sometimes, she woke screaming in the night, his name upon her lips.
But the nightmares did not matter.
She needed William Dark. She needed the monster. She needed the man. And she would have him.
She approached the house slowly, almost timidly. Her tennis shoes crunched over the wet gravel. It had rained earlier in the day, and the air still smelled of the shower.
There was no sound in the courtyard. No birds chirping. No dogs barking. Not even the howl of the wind intruded on this quiet space.
She was the only intruder. Her stomach clenched, and she swallowed several times to relieve the tightness in her throat. Her heart pounded furiously. She wondered if he could hear the desperate beating.
From their perch high atop the house, two hideous gargoyles glared down at her, warning her away from their master. Savannah lifted her bruised chin in silent challenge. She had not let her friends dissuade her from her journey. She certainly would not be frightened off by two statues! Even if they did seem to stare down at her, their glittering eyes following her every move.
Finally, she stood before a tall, wooden door. A cross had been crudely etched into its surface. She stared at the spiritual sign, wondering at its presence. At its meaning in this place of darkness.
It didn't belong there.
Neither did she.
But she wasn't going to leave. Not until she'd gotten what she needed.
She took a deep breath.
The door opened before she could even lift her hand to knock against its hard surface. He opened the door. For a moment, she could only stare up at him in stunned surprise. Even in the night's shadow, she could tell that it was he.
He towered over her slender form. He was tall, easily over six feet, and his broad shoulders seemed to fill the doorframe. His long midnight hair was pulled back and clasped at the base of his neck. His eyes, a burning coal-black, seemed to glow as they stared piercingly into her own.
She'd seen a sketch of him before, of course. She'd known what he looked like. But seeing him up close was an entirely different matter.
She hadn't realized just how high and strong his cheekbones were, or how sensual his lips would be. His nose was perfectly straight, if a little sharp. His brow was high and elegant. He was an attractive man, even with the thin scar that sliced down his left cheek.
She knew how he had gotten that scar.
She knew everything about the man before her.
He was dressed in black, the color accentuating his tawny skin and making him look almost … sinister.
He stood within the shadows, watching her.
Finally, he spoke. “You are not welcome here.” His voice was a purr, a seductive contrast to the harsh words. A slight English accent marked his formal words.
Savannah was not surprised by his abruptness. After all, it was the greeting that she'd expected. In a quick rush, she said, “I must speak with you, Mr. Dark.” Her voice shook with intensity. He had to let her inside the house. He had to!
His head lifted slightly. Did curiosity flicker faintly in the depths of his black eyes? Savannah couldn't tell, not for certain.
«Must you?” he queried. His voice seemed to wrap around her, to sink into her.
She shook her head, clearing the sudden fog from her mind. “Let me come inside,” Savannah entreated, trying in vain to stare around his shadowed body and glimpse the interior of the manor. “We have to talk. It's urgent.»