Moonless Read Online Free Page A

hurried forward.
    The beast’s black eyes widened. Its hooves dug into the dirt and its nostrils flared.
    She stopped. There could be no mistake. It recognized her just as she recognized it from the baron’s doorstep.
    She backed away.
    He waited in her house? He of nightmares? He who kidnapped vicious children and brought death?
    Dodging back into the house, she sprinted down the hall. Had he come because she remained the only living testament of his crime, or because Father had inquired about the baron’s disappearance? Would he harm Father?
    The study door stood closed. She neared, shaking. Pressing cautiously against it, she expected the mahogany to burn her.
    Father’s voice boomed through the wood. “No! And that is final!”
    The barrier lurched. She leapt back as it swung open.
    The stranger halted before her. Boots, not stylish, but entirely practical and worn; breeches, a sturdy gray, modestly hugging a trim form; waist coat concealed by a subtly weathered coat; shirt, fitted and simple . . .  
    Her jaw fell.
    Ginger locks framed his clean-shaven face with a straight nose, high cheekbones, expressive brows and enigmatic blue eyes. He was a perfect paramour of twenty years, except for a jagged white scar cutting from below one eye down his cheek. A sheen of beauty hung over his whole being. He verily glowed.
    Like Bellezza. Like herself!
    She gasped. Sweet pollen and rustic oak tickled her nose, transporting her to a grove of wooded mystery so deep mankind would never comprehend the fullness. Those consuming eyes met hers and flickers of heat burst in her cheeks, spreading across the back of her neck. His pupils widened, nearly eclipsing the night sky. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to fall into the blackness of his gaze.
    A grunt from the den brought her back to the hall.
    The stranger bowed, movements excruciatingly slow, eyes never leaving her face. His lips parted as if he might speak, but with a dark glance toward the study, his mouth sealed in a grim line. The corners of his eyes crinkled, pain glinting in his hypnotic stare. He nodded and stepped around her.
    A breath of fresh-cut tinder and summer blooms pulled her eyelids closed, like the farewell kiss of a faerie nightmare.
    She blinked back dizziness and sucked in air, lifting her arms to steady her wobbling knees. No man should have that kind of influence on the opposite sex. It was . . . unholy.
    Alexia whirled around, uncertain if she yearned to see his incredible eyes reaching for hers, or to simply verify he was not a specter.
    The hall was empty.
    She jogged to the grand entry, but he’d utterly disappeared.
    She must be a lunatic! He’d come here to kill her or Father or worse, and she dared bask in the afterglow of his influence? Still, like a forbidden wine, part of her ached to drink in more of his presence, to discover the sound of his voice, to know why he looked on her so sadly, to comprehend the mystery behind his misdeeds and learn the story behind his scar.
    “Give him leave of audience. Bah!” The sound of tearing paper ruptured from the study and Father stormed away.
    Leave of audience? With her? Was that all the alluring trespasser had desired?
    She blushed. No, certainly he sought to speak with someone of influence, someone Father knew within their well-bred society.
    She wandered into the study, absorbing the emptiness his wake had left and imagining a hint of his aroma lingered. Her heart thumped at the thought of those astonishing eyes, wide enough to encompass the entire heavens!
    She stopped. What was wrong with her? Obsessing over a murderer!
    Shreds of off-white parchment lay strewn about the heavy oak table and leather couches. She bent to decipher them. Father’s heavy footfalls rumbled over the floorboards, nearing. She scooped the scraps into her skirts and hurried away. The broken words would be deciphered at a discrete hour—as they were certainly heralds of her demise.

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    Disturbing