Page 2 of Crimson Everlasting
Alexander finished reviewing the offer that would be made to the relative who inherited the property to the east. It was a beautiful two hundred acres, and he looked forward to adding it to the Coven proper. He'd continued to expand the property holdings of the Crimson Coven steadily over the years, buying anything that came on the market that bordered the Coven property.
This piece had come on the market a little over a hundred years ago, and he'd failed to buy it, thinking that it was too far removed from their borders to matter. But now, after many purchases, this piece lay directly on their border, and hopefully, this would be his opportunity to obtain it.
Peter had discovered that it was left in its entirety to a cousin by the name of Emrys Tarquin, the same name as the original owner. It was probably a family name that pops up somewhere every generation. He had his people working on an offer, making it well above the property's worth.
He wanted that land, and he was willing to pay dearly for it. The fact that it had never been developed made it even more desirable. No buildings or roads existed within the two hundred acres, no marks or scars on the land. It was a beautiful blank canvas waiting for its artists, designers, and builders to accent that beauty.
He left his office and headed home to the quarters he shared with his beloved Quinn on the upper floor of the mansion. When he walked in, he knew that something was off. The air was tense, and there was an acrid scent of panic growing around him. His chosen Quinn Ravenscroft, a dragon shifter, had not come to meet him, which was out of character. He was usually in Alexander's arms as soon as he got home.
“Quinn.” He called out and headed toward the bedroom. Quinn walked out of the bedroom and was talking to someone on his cell phone. Alexander could sense the distress he was feeling and pulled him into his arms, holding him while he finished his call. "What is it, my love, what's wrong?" he asked, worry filling his words. He walked with Quinn over to the couch, and they sat down with Alexander still holding him.
“It’s Fergus, he’s sick. Father just called and told me he would bring him home this afternoon and to have our doctors waiting." Fergus was their son, half vampire and half dragon, and only sixteen years old. He'd recently gone to live with his grandfather, who was the Dragon King, a ritual for all young dragons. He’d been there a little over five months, living within the Ravenscroft Circle and learning the way of the dragon, and now he was sick, and it was something the Dragon King could not cure.
“What did your father’s doctors say? Do they have a clue as to the cause?” Alexander felt tense as he took on Quinn’sworry. Fergus was their most beloved and heir to the Crimson Coven. The thought of him suffering was unacceptable.
“His doctors do not know the cause, but he is hoping that the vampire doctors may understand what is happening. Fergus fell ill this morning and within hours was unconscious and unresponsive in his bed. He is breathing and his heart is strong for now, but he appears to be gradually failing.” Quinn could barely get the words out as his panic and grief took over.
"There has to be an answer," Alexander stated forcefully, pulling his chosen back into his arms. "There's an answer and we will find it."
CHAPTER TWO
Trent and his men split up, each taking a section of the two hundred acres. They were to map the property and log any issues or points of interest for analysis later. Trent had gone several miles when he noticed a clearing that was man-made. There was a rough trail through the woods that led to the clearing, and it looked as if it was being cleared in order to build. That was not good news.
He walked the area, which took in a good ten acres, and saw that indeed the land was being prepared for construction. Trent photographed the area and sent it to Tobias, and then headed down to the creek that ran along the west side of this piece of the property.
He called Anders and Shane to check if they'd witnessed any of the same land use, and they had. Anders was quite a way west of him and let him know that the rough trail he saw at the building site was hooked to the main road. He also told him that there was a variety of heavy equipment parked just off the road. "It looks like they're preparing to do some sort of extensive land development." He offered, and Trent explained that he came upon a large clearing that looked like it was going to be a homestead.
“That’s unfortunate," Anders exclaimed, and Trent chuckled.
"Definitely, but nothing's built yet, so perhaps he's still open to negotiations." Trent hoped the heir to the property wasn’t dead set on moving in. But if they had to wait another generation, they would. Accessing the land was important to them, but it wasn't life or death. He continued down the shallow ridge, and when he came upon the creek, he was met with a surprise.
Emrys traveled to Crimson alone and took a suite at the Riverside Hotel. Nolan would finish burying John Murphy and would join Emrys in Crimson in a day or so. Emrys had contracted with a company to clear a section of his two hundred acres and build his home there.
It was a beautiful piece of property, and the home would be impressive. He had big plans. The builder was an artist when it came to architecture and making a home that joined as one with the property surrounding it. This would be the first home Emry's helped design and build since striking off on his own, and he looked forward to building a life in Crimson Virginia.
He made a few calls, getting the specifics on the build, and planned to head out there as soon as his rental car was delivered. He was finishing his coffee when his cell phone rang. "Hello." He said, and was met with the business manager/agent that Nolan had hired for the transition of the property into Emry’s possession. It had gone smoothly and with few questions, but now there seemed to be an issue regarding local interest in the land.
“I’ve received a second offer from the Crimson Corporation for the two hundred acres you have inherited. Theoffer is well above its worth, and I wouldn't be surprised if they might be open to raising that offer again." He was eager, which was obvious by his breathlessness over the offer, but Emrys was not going to sell.
The manager continued with his pitch. “They want to add it to their existing holdings since your acreage borders their lands to the east. You have a unique opportunity to really clean up here.” The man was doing his job and Emrys' could not fault him for that, but he had no intention of releasing any part of this land or of entertaining any offers.
“I’m building my home, I’m moving in, I am not going to sell any part of the two hundred acres.” Emrys made his intentions very clear. “Please thank them for their interest and let them know I will not be entertaining any offers and that the land is not for sale.”
“They’re a very powerful entity here in this part of Virginia, and they are used to getting what they want.” That felt vaguely like a threat.
“Unfortunately, they will not be getting my property. Thank you for taking care of this business." With that, he closed the call, not particularly liking the man's tone or persistence.
Real estate agents were sometimes pushy, and he completely understood, but this guy gave him a bad feeling. He was either angling for a larger payout from him or a significant payout from Crimson Corp., and he feared it was the latter. Emrys planned to call Nolan and have him engage a new business manager/agent.
His car arrived, and he headed off to look over the progress at the site and to gain inspiration. Thoughts of the distasteful business call soon disappeared, and visions of hisfuture filled his mind. He parked where the large equipment was parked and decided to walk up to the clearing.
It was quite a hike, but the atmosphere made it easy and wonderful. After so many years working and focusing on a career, he relished the opportunity to stop and look around. This was the second time he'd reinvented himself, and this time he wanted to take it slower. He’d made enough money during his previous incarnation to live well for a long time, so this time he would take it slow and see what happened.
Building this dream house on this dream property was the first step in this slower and more purposeful existence. Within sixty or seventy years, he would once again have to reimagine himself like he did in Montana and again in New York. He feared that leaving this place would be the most difficult of all.
Perhaps life would work in his favor, and the end would not be the end. He smiled at the strange twists and turns of his thoughts as he tried to plan a future that was anybody’s guess. He walked to the creek and crouched down, letting the water course through his fingers, enjoying the cool freshness.
He was immortal, an everlasting, and most of all, he was alone. Bonds, friends, plans, all were temporary in his world. This new beginning was filled with possibilities, but like always, the time would come when he would have to leave.
