Darkness In The Flames
Page 35
Perhaps there was some greater hand at work after all. She’d made him feel again, forced him to accept that he still lived, differently to others, but lived nonetheless. She’d shown him passion, desire and love.
He knew it was building between them. Not the hyperbole of poets or the quiet docility of aristocratic couples. There was nothing tranquil or romantic about their loving. It was fire and flames and naked need, each bringing their own hunger to their fucking, each finding the fuel they needed as they met, parted and clung once more.
This was love, the moaning, clashing heat of two hearts blending as two bodies melded and two souls found each other in a maelstrom of blinding desire. Nick blinked at himself. He was getting altogether far too fanciful. There were other matters to attend to first.
It had been over an hour since he’d begun his vigil and his horse was getting fidgety—something matched by Nick’s own state of mind. Where the hell was Verity?
He judged the time to be well past midnight now. Something was very, very wrong. Then a sound caught his attention and his gaze homed in on the stables. Doors were opening, dim lights glowed and a closed carriage emerged. Nick noted they were moving quietly, almost surreptitiously, as if the driver did not want to attract any untoward attention.
Well, it was too late for that—they had his.
As soon as they were clear of the graveled driveway and onto the soft dirt of the lane leading away from the Towers, the horses were whipped up and the vehicle hurried down into the shadows of the forest.
Instinctively Nick tightened his thighs and turned his mount. Something was afoot within that carriage. He hoped like hell it was Verity making her escape. But the fact that it wasn’t a lone rider concerned him. Deeply concerned him. He could not help but follow it.
Blessing the darkness, he let his ears mark the route they took, soon turning from the main path into smaller lanes that took them deeper into the woods. He heard them slow as their way became rougher, heard the carriage jolt as it bumped over roots and ruts and finally heard the gentle “Whoa” as it stopped altogether.
Silently he crept down to a point where he could see it clearly.
There were two men—one driving and one within. They did not speak, but dismounted, the body of the carriage rocking as they jumped to the ground. Then they turned to the interior and pulled out something—something large.
A bundle, loosely tied with cord, swaths of fabric wrapping and obscuring whatever was inside.
“This’ll do.” One spoke softly. “Wolves’ll take care of the rest of the chore.”
“Good idea. I don’t feel up to digging tonight.”
Grabbing one end, each man swung the load a couple of times, picking up momentum until they had enough to toss the thing into the undergrowth a little way into the forest.
Their chore completed, they were back in the carriage and on their way home moments later.
His throat almost closed with fear, Nick let them leave then moved down to where they’d disposed of whatever it was they’d wrapped and tied up. He was so afraid of what he might find.
The night was still, the presence of the men having silenced any natural sounds as creatures froze until any danger had passed. Nick’s worst fears came to pass as he leapt from the saddle and rushed to the bushes only to hear a faint moan.
The bundle had landed beneath a clump of dying ferns, their brownish bracken crackling as he pushed it aside. The cloth was stained, dark damp patches marking its surface.
He tore frantically at the cords, finally loosening them and pulling away the material.
His horror choked him.
It was Verity.
Barely recognizable, she was covered in a skimpy and torn chemise, stained with blood and stiffening beneath his hands. Her face was battered, one eye completely closed and swollen, the other streaked with blood from a cut on her forehead.
“Verity…” It was a whisper that could have been a howl from his heart. Nick crumpled beside her and gathered her in his arms, heedless of her injuries or her gaping wounds.
Incredibly, she moved a little. “Nick?”
The word cost her and she coughed, a racking loose sound that sent bloody bubbles of air oozing from her lips.
“Don’t speak, love. I shall fetch help.”
Wearily she managed to shake her head. “Too late, I fear.” A drop of clear liquid formed in the corner of her open eye and tumbled across the matted hair as she wept. Her hand clutched at his jacket. “They found me. P-punished me.”
“I know love. Sshhh. Don’t think of it now. You’re here. You’re safe with me now.”
“Nick…”
“What my darling?” Nick didn’t realize he was crying too until a drop of pink tinged moisture fell on her breasts. The creamy skin was marred with weals and scars from a whip administered by a savage hand.
“I love you, Nick.”
Nick gulped back his pain. “I love you too. It was fate that we met when we did.”
She attempted a smile past lips that were swollen and torn. “Yes.” She winced as he held her even closer.
Oh God. This was a torture he could not bear.
He stared down at her once more and a blinding thought crashed into his brain. He did not have to bear this agony.
Neither did she.
Trembling, he caressed her poor damaged face. “Verity—listen to me. I can—I can save you.”
She slumped limply. “Too late. Can’t feel…can’t feel legs. Breathing…hard.” More bloody bubbles foamed around her lips and Nick knew she was right. Air from her lungs was mixing with blood. It was a significant and life-threatening injury.
“Darling, I can save you. But to do so I must—I will have to make you…like me.”
She managed a pale grin. “Yes, I like you.”
“No sweetheart, listen to me. Verity. Stay with me.” He focused his whole mind and heart on the woman dying in his arms. “I can make you like me. You will heal. You will be whole. But you will be a vampire. Like me.”
“Yes.” She stared at him.
Did she understand? “Verity, tell me it’s what you want. That it’s your choice to live with me in the shadows. I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t want to condemn you to a living hell either.”
“Be with you. Yes. Be like you. Yes.” She dredged up enough strength to clutch his arm. “You will never leave me?”
“Never.” It was an oath he knew would be simple to keep. Forever.
“Do it. Do it Nick. I would stay with you. Don’t want to…to…die…” Verity’s voice tapered off as a wave of pain swept her, shaking her body uncontrollably. Nick saw her one good eye glaze over and knew the time was close.
“I will do it, Verity. For your life and my sanity. ‘Twill not be pleasant, but you will survive. I cannot lose you now.”
Could she hear him? He had no idea. He just needed to voice some of the emotions roiling within his heart. Tenderly he held her close and pushed the bloody hair away from her neck.
Her pulse was weak and thready but still there—for how much longer, he had no idea but he wasn’t going to wait. His fangs were already emerging as he drew near to the tiny flutter. At least with her injuries she would feel no pain from his bite.
Steeling himself, Nick took a last look at Verity. She was a pale shadow of her former vibrant self, beaten savagely to the point of death. It was a fate none should ever suffer, but she had through no fault of her own. He had a pretty good idea who was responsible, but that was for later.
Right now, she was all that mattered.
Carefully, trying not to disturb her broken body more than he had to, Nick lowered his head to her neck—and bit her.
Pain.
Agonizing pain.
Verity felt her body give way and surrender to the inevitable. She was going to die. She didn’t sense the fangs that slid into her neck, nor the strength that trembled around her as he held her. She knew Nick was there with her, that was all that mat
tered.
If she had to die, best to do it in the arms of the man she loved.
Her spirit shivered and drifted for a strange moment, hovering above the shattered wreck of her body. For an infinite time she watched herself, puzzled as she saw Nick hold his wrist to her lips. How strange. This nothingness, this instant of disembodied floating.
Then a new sensation began, a pulling—a tugging on her fragile existence. It drew her back—back down into the shell that was Verity Chandler.
And the pain began anew.
This time it was different. This time it was a horrendously unimaginable wrenching of her soul, as if a thousand rats were gnawing at her guts, devouring her from the inside out.
She could not know that Nick had carried her to the safety of their lair. Nor did she know how he tended her, holding her while she vomited the last of her humanity into the dirt.
She did not know he cleansed her, bathed her tenderly and then later carried her to a nearby stream to wash the last of the wounds away into the flowing waters. She only knew she hurt. Her bones were red-hot iron, burning the muscles wrapped around them. Her brain throbbed inside a skull that seemed too small to hold it and every fiber of her being screamed with the sheer agony of it.
She wanted to howl but had no voice with which to do so.
She wanted to rip the scalding flesh from her body but had no strength to lift a finger.
She wanted to die and end the torture but even then she struggled to live. To survive.
Her ordeal was lightened by brief moments of something soothing, something cool and sweet that passed between her lips, bringing her periods of blackness and forgetfulness.
Then she would wake and the process would start all over again. Lost in her misery, Verity was only vaguely aware of the man beside her. A presence that offered comfort with a touch but could not stop the writhing roiling burn that engulfed her.
She had no idea that her body was healing itself, or that the injuries she’d sustained were all but gone.
She was lost, sunk in a deep abyss where pain was reality and reality an unattainable goal.
Finally, she sipped the precious nectar and slid into her darkest shadows, wondering—as she always did—if she had come to the inevitable end.
And this time, when she awoke, the pain was gone.
She lay still, exploring the sensation of awareness without agony. Perhaps she had died and this was the afterlife. But no, something was digging into her spine. She was still on Earth, still breathing.
Or—oddly, there was a silence where there should have been a heartbeat. Cautiously, Verity opened her eyes.
She could see.
Immediately she recognized their cave-like burrow, although there was no light at all. To her surprise, she could see every nook and cranny as clear as if a lamp was lit. She blinked, then moved, turning her head and finding a face near hers, watching her.
It was Nick. He smiled. “Hello.”
Verity opened her mouth to speak, then to her horror she burst into tears and tumbled into his arms.
Nick caught her tightly to him, his heart overflowing with joy. He’d done it—Verity was still with him. Still—Verity.
Exhausted, he clung to her and let her sob, simply enjoying this moment of new closeness. For days he’d nursed her through the worst of it, doing what he could to ease her distress.
He’d been there himself—the memories of his own transformation helped him anticipate her needs, make it easier for her than it had been for him. His blood had sustained her, sped the process along much faster. She’d not had to forage for food, to find small creatures and devour them in an insane frenzy of bloodlust. She’d not had to drag herself from shadow to shadow or wake in her own body’s discarded fluids.
He’d spared her much of the misery—but to what had he condemned her?
“Nick—you’re here.” She raised her damp face from his chest as her tears ceased. “I’m here. I’m alive.”
Tentative fingers touched him, as if she was still not sure this was all real.
“Yes. We’re together. We survive, Verity.” He stared at her. “How do you feel?”
Oddly dark eyes looked intently back at him. “I feel—strange. No pain anymore, but different—you know?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I know.”
“How? What did you—I was so badly injured, Nick. How did you save me? I remember so little—”
Nick swallowed. “I-I made you like me, Verity.” He waited. Did she remember that?
“Yes, yes. You asked and I said yes. I don’t mean that…” She waved the matter casually aside, easing Nick’s mind considerably. “I mean how did my body not succumb to my injuries? I don’t understand how your changing me healed me.”
“It wasn’t the biting so much.” He lay back, seeking words to explain that which he himself barely comprehended. “After I bit you, I drained as much of your blood as I dared. Then—then I fed you.”
“Ahhh.” She nodded.
“Your body adjusted—that’s the only way I can describe it. My blood is different, but yours changed to accommodate it. And in doing so, the damage healed itself. We now share blood that will not allow our bodies to be injured. Wherever we are wounded, we heal almost immediately.”
“So when you were shot—” She paused. “It makes sense.” Another thought struck her. “How long? How long did all this take, Nick?”
“Close on five days.”
“Five days?” Verity sat up with a jump then slumped back down. “Urgh. I’m as weak as a kitten.”
Nick felt almost the same but wasn’t about to tell her that. Right now she needed information. The practical woman he loved had to sort out her thoughts and heal them every bit as much as her body had needed to recuperate.
“You are weak, still. It will take more time to become fully accustomed to your new—existence.”
She lifted up a little and raised an eyebrow. “My new life, Nick. My life with you. We are the same now. We shall live together like this. I don’t know how you survived this process alone, but you did. You found me and now I have survived it too. Up to this moment you’ve been in darkness, a darkness I could not have comprehended if I hadn’t passed through it myself. But now? Now we’re together. Now we have light.”
She leaned to him and dropped a delicate kiss on his mouth. “Now we have each other. Now we both have a future.”
Nick had no words to respond. She was right. He’d done a terrible thing to her but it seemed they both might benefit. She had survived to bring hope to his soul.
He sighed and held her, content to lie with Verity in his arms. His world had shifted, settled into a new path. One that offered comfort and the pleasure of sharing with another.
“Verity, there is still much for you to learn.”
She yawned. “I can well imagine. And will you teach me, Nick?”
“I will.” He settled her comfortably. “Right now, rest is the best medicine. You are weak and I will confess I am tired myself. We shall both have to feed soon, something I will show you how to do.”
“I do not know if I can—kill, Nick.”
“You will never have to, sweetheart. ‘Tis not necessary, no matter what stories you hear. We can take enough to sustain our needs without destroying life. It took me some time to learn the skills necessary. You will have them from the start.”
“You’re a good man, my love. I am blessed.” Her eyelids drifted closed.
“Blessed?” He snorted and settled himself. “Make no mistake, Verity. We’re cursed, cursed to wander the darkness. Cursed to watch life pass us by and yet remain untouched.”
“If I have to spend eternity with you, ‘tis a curse I welcome.” She sighed sleepily. “Silly man. I love you. That’s not a curse—that’s a gift.”
Her words warmed him. He was loved. Something he’d never expected to happen.
The knowledge strengthened him for the one thing he knew he had to do. There was unfinished business
to be settled. A score to be paid.
He’d watched Verity suffer as she became something new. That suffering had been preceded by an event so terrible it would, under ordinary circumstances, have taken her life.
Her muttered ramblings over their time together had painted a picture for him, one that gnawed within him. He had seen the fatal damage to her body and she’d murmured of the brutality which caused it.
The whipping, the beating—the consequent sexual abuse—it had been a nightmare she’d suffered alone at the hands of two savage people who could give Thérèse a run for her money.
That was something Nick could not let go unpunished. He’d planned, meditated, strategized and schemed, even as he’d tended his mate. He could not kill, would not kill. His goal was to honor Verity by pointing out to those who’d harmed her the error of their ways in brutalizing her. There would be no honor in ripping their throats out with his fangs, satisfying though such a deed would have been.
No, Nick had another idea. One that would not involve either him or Verity. Just a knowledge of science, chemicals and the deviant habits of two humans who barely warranted the description.
He had seen much depravity in his travels. Much poverty, much pain and much horror. But what had been done to Verity touched him on a more emotional level. She had not desired such treatment nor had she merited it.
It was simple viciousness, the savage delight in bringing pain to another. And he knew who was to blame.
Leaving Verity sleeping, secure in the knowledge she’d rest for several hours at least—and with any luck through the coming day—Nick crept from his cave and saddled his horse.
He was headed for FitzAdams Towers and the repayment of a debt.
Chapter Thirteen
The next few days passed quickly for Verity as she learned all there was to learn about her new lifestyle. Nick was nothing if not thorough in his teachings, sharing not only what they needed to do in order to survive, but also his ideas, his theories and his assumptions about what they were and how their bodies had changed.