Darkness In The Flames

by Kelly, Sahara

  “I suppose there’s a good chance that there could be more than one luscious redhead out there.” Katherine’s tone was prim as she touched her own red hair.

  Adrian grinned. “Quite possibly, my love.”

  “So, if I understand things correctly, Saint Chesswell’s brother seduced and abandoned this woman, then laid a mystical curse on her which turned her into a vampire?” Verity’s ordered mind was clearly trying to condense and simplify the tale.

  “Essentially, yes.” Sidney nodded once more. “We know from Thérèse’s experience that this woman had lost a child. Not surprising given her new physical characteristics.”

  Once more silence fell. Rowan’s heart lurched as he realized the implications. Neither of the women in front of him could carry a child. Neither could give the men they loved the most precious gift of all. A son.

  A lump formed in his throat and he fought to choke it down, to focus on what was important right at this moment—deciphering and utilizing the information they now possessed. “I am amazed that a mere human could create such a being.”

  Sidney turned to him. “As am I. And yet there is so much about the world we do not fully understand, Rowan. Who are we—we above all—to question the power of words, of deeds from a shrouded past? There may well have been people who had such power, who could bestow gifts or curses without the use of anything more than phrases? We all know, only too well, that the impossible is possible. You are all living proof.” He waved his hand expansively. “How many people would believe you to be creatures of darkness, living on the blood of others? How many people believe that vampires are no more than a creation designed to scare children?”

  Rowan had to agree. “You’re right, Sir Sidney.” He stood, unable to keep still as his brain turned the matter over and over. His steps took him to the window where he gazed unseeing at the ocean beyond. “How many would believe we exist at all?”

  Marcus straightened his shoulders. “Numbers don’t matter. They don’t matter. We matter. And now we have a lot more information than we did even a short week ago.” He turned to Sir Sidney. “I’m guessing that this curse inspired your ancestor to take up his research into the black arts?”

  Sidney tilted his head in acknowledgement. “There does seem to be a correlation, yes. After this entry, Saint Chesswell’s manuscript begins to fill with arcane bits of lore, advice on which herbs produce results when spell-casting, that sort of thing. I sense…” He bit his lip and paused for a moment. “And this is only a guess, mind you…I believe Saint Chesswell was looking for something to undo his brother’s deed.”

  “But he was too late.” Rowan continued to stare out of the window. “The damage was done and a vampire was loose. Taking revenge on him, in all likelihood.”

  “And after him, anyone else she could get her fangs into.” Nick sounded apologetic. “I’m not being flippant here. It’s the betrayal theme once more, isn’t it? A woman betrayed by the man she’s loved with all the passion she possesses. Perhaps that has a strong magic in and of itself.”

  Adrian nodded and reached for Katherine’s hand, holding it tightly. “I’m sure it does, Nick. Love possesses a great mystical force all its own.”

  Rowan sighed. “So what do we do now? What can we do?” The question echoed as the others remained silent. “How does all this help us? Help Thérèse?”

  “We cannot help her, Rowan. We can only destroy her. And I’m not even sure if we can do that.” Adrian spoke the words solemnly.

  Rowan’s heart lurched. “I know.”

  More comments were interjected, more discussion ensued, but Rowan heard almost none of it. He was aware of Marcus’ hand resting gently on his shoulder, even though he’d not sensed the other man’s approach.

  “It has to be this way, Rowan.”

  “I know,” said Rowan once more. “And yet the knowledge is killing what little humanity I have left inside me.”

  “If you feel it, then you still have a lot of humanity there.” Marcus’ grip tightened for a moment. “They all feel it, Rowan. You’re not alone in this. Look at their faces—the expression in their eyes. Thérèse has touched them all with her taint, her fury—her evil. And yet, now that they know the reason for it, they are not unmoved. They feel for her even while knowing this can only have one conclusion.”

  His hand urged Rowan to turn and face the room. He did so, following his friend’s advice and looking at his companions. And Marcus was right.

  Adrian held Katherine near, their hands linked, their faces somber. Nick’s arm was around Verity as each spoke their thoughts, gestures betraying how deeply they were involved in the conversation. Sidney listened to them all, nodding now and again, interspersing his own words when appropriate.

  “Yes.” Rowan watched them. “Yes, Marcus. They do feel it, don’t they?”

  “Indeed they do, my friend. As do I.”

  Rowan glanced quickly at Marcus. The brown eyes were full of emotion, a blend of pain and affection that touched Rowan deeply. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  Rowan merely smiled, then turned to the others. “This isn’t easy for me to say. But I do believe that we must now turn our attentions to the one thing that looms over us all. Thérèse. No matter what happened in the past, or how, or to whom, she is the one holding us in her thrall. And to free ourselves—and possibly her—I see no other course of action.”

  He stepped forward, feeing Marcus’ hand drop away from his shoulder. He missed the warmth but knew this was a step he had to take. A beginning only he could initiate. “I love her. I would die for her. Perhaps I will die with her. I do not know. But I do know one thing—she cannot go on as she is. Her existence must be ended. And we must do this if at all possible. There is no one else.”

  The quiet that followed lasted long moments—until a distant rumble of thunder shook the air beyond St. Chesswell’s. It was ominous, this low mutter of nature. A threat perhaps, or simply an underlining of Rowan’s words.

  He didn’t know, nor did he care. At that moment, Rowan dedicated himself to freeing the woman he loved from her centuries-long imprisonment. If he had to sacrifice his life—and hers—to do it, so be it.

  *~*~*~*

  Marcus endured the following hours with a heart heavy for his friend. He could not see this ending well for any of them. They were vampires, strong and invincible—well-nigh immortal to a human’s way of looking at things—and yet such an existence might well prove their undoing.

  The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became. Destroying Thérèse would destroy what she had created. The Maker would be Unmade and the Made would be Free. The promise of the old book would be fulfilled. But Marcus believed that such freedom would come at a high price.

  And the price might well be their lives.

  “We have to confront her.” Sidney was adamant. “Whether in her Rogaškan lair or wherever—we have to confront her. Together. We cannot destroy her in dreams, Adrian. It won’t work. They’re not real.”

  He and his son were conversing heatedly, arguing how best to reach Thérèse and locate her vulnerability. Adrian was all for summoning her, calling her to them, letting her know they could help her. And then ending her existence, as swiftly as possible although the details in that part of his plan were hazy at best.

  Sidney didn’t see how that would work, putting forth his arguments calmly and rationally. Katherine backed him up.

  “I know, my dear.” She stroked Adrian’s arm. “I want her sufferings ended every bit as much as you do. Regardless of the price we may pay.” Their gazes clashed in a private moment that Marcus couldn’t bear to watch. It was too intimate for other eyes.

  He glanced at Rowan. “What do you think?”

  Rowan turned his head, looking thoughtful. “I think Adrian is right in some ways. We do need to summon her. But although our dreams may be the start of it, she has to be present in person. We have to touch, face to face, hand to hand. She has to be with us,
not just drifting through our brains as we sleep. We are powerless in that world. It’s her world. This…” He clenched a fist and dropped it firmly on his knee with a thud. “This is our world. This is where we can succeed.”

  “We tried summoning her, Rowan. It failed.” Verity sighed. “We did everything we could to make her see us—hear us—”

  “All four of us gave it our best try.” Nick nodded. “There was nothing. She did not appear. It was unusual enough to surprise us, since it’s her habit to share such things…” He looked self-conscious.

  “I understand.” Rowan waved Nick’s embarrassment aside. “But let us not overlook the fact that her behavior recently has been…different.” He paused, gathering his thoughts.

  Marcus felt his heart turn over within his breast. How blessed he was to have found Rowan, even if it turned out to be for a shorter time than he could have desired. And how could he possibly face the loss of his friend?

  He fought for resolve. He must—there were no other options for any of them.

  Rowan continued. “For a little while now, we’ve all noticed changes in Thérèse. She could not avoid your holy water, Sir Sidney. She did not come to any of you when you…er…attempted to arouse her interest. She still could not quite hide the scars from me, nor did she have the strength to control me that she had when we first met.”

  Nods of agreement endorsed Rowan’s assessment.

  “And she lost the ability to control her agony, releasing it into me when I fed from her. None of you have ever experienced that, am I correct?”

  Once again, heads nodded.

  “So one of two things is happening. Either the fact that we have banded together here as a unit has increased our strength to withstand her, or…” He paused.

  “Or what?” Nick’s black eyes bored into Rowan’s face.

  “Or she is coming to the end of her existence. She is dying.”

  Nobody spoke for a few moments, each probably doing as Marcus found himself doing, turning these notions over in his mind.

  “Do we let her die?” Verity tugged at her lower lip as she frowned. “Can we just assume she will disintegrate as did the other one?”

  “No.” Sidney responded immediately. “That will do us no good. We have to unmake her, Verity. She may die, but that does nothing to free you. You will continue to be what you are. I am doing my best to counteract whatever she has placed within your blood, but it is not sufficient. I cannot say what will happen to any of you after I’m gone. After the centuries begin to pass…”

  “I agree.” Rowan spoke thoughtfully. “It is up to us to free Thérèse—and ourselves. Letting her just poof away to nothingness—it’s not right. This must be ended. Besides, there may be others who do not know what we know. Others who may, even now, be creating more creatures like ourselves.” He stared steadily at Nick and Adrian. “You know how that happens. You know the desires that prompt such a deed. Right or wrong, you know it can be done.”

  Adrian opened his mouth to respond angrily, then subsided. “Yes. I cannot like your words, but that does not make them invalid.”

  “I’m sorry, Adrian. I did not mean to offend either you or Katherine. Nor you Nick.” Rowan sighed. “Forgive me, Verity.”

  “We understand, lad. Go on.” Sidney skillfully defused the emotion of the moment.

  “Very well. Whether done from passion, desire, love or simply hunger, vampires will create other vampires. There is no way for us to know the extent of Thérèse’s children, as it were. How many she transformed on a whim instead of killed. We cannot simply let her fade away while others still carry on with their nightmarish existence. We have to destroy her. Free her—free them—and free ourselves.”

  More thunder rumbled softly out over the ocean as everyone considered Rowan’s words.

  “I agree.” Marcus added his mite. “I am not unaffected by all that I’ve seen and heard. I’ve come to view you all as family—like it or not.” A quick smile curled his lips, only to fade as he glanced at the faces around him. “I cannot know what lies ahead, nor what result our actions will have. But I do know we all possess something that gives us a greater advantage than we might imagine.”

  “We do?” Katherine raised her eyebrows.

  “Yes. We do. We love, Katherine.” Marcus’ voice was quiet. “We have all found something greater than ourselves. Somebody who means more to us than life, somebody we want to live for and would die for if necessary.” He took a breath and continued. “Maybe others have tried to fight Thérèse—if they have, they’ve failed. I would have been among their number had I not been possessed of my own private curse. But something—some twist in the fabric of fate, some whimsical wave of an angel’s hand—I don’t know…something has brought us all together. Has united us with a common bond we all share. We love.”

  He felt the color stain his cheeks as he let his emotions show. This was not his usual demeanor, since Marcus was at heart a private man. But these things needed to be said.

  “Katherine, your love for Adrian has taken you to his side to share his life and his curse. Nick? You chose to save Verity from certain death—a difficult choice, but one you made from love. And Rowan?” Marcus swallowed. “Rowan has offered me his love, his friendship and his trust. Everything he could spare from Thérèse he has given to me—and so much more.”

  Ignoring the shifting of Rowan’s body as he absorbed the impact of these words, Marcus continued. “Let us not ignore the power that comes with a love like this. It unites us, strengthens us, arms us with something precious and priceless. If there is any kind of order to our universe, then love has to play a role in that order. I refuse to believe otherwise. So add that fact to our arsenal of theories and weapons. Whatever route we choose, we must not forget that love may be the one thing to tip the scales in our favor. We have it in abundance. Thérèse had it torn from her in the most terrible of ways. It’s a fundamental part of who we are. Let’s use it to make us all the strongest we can be.”

  *~*~*~*

  “That was quite a speech.” Rowan slipped from his clothes as he and Marcus shared a few moments before each sought his rest.

  “I meant it.” Marcus watched him intently. “It’s something we should not overlook. Love can never be fully overlooked, neither its power nor its effects.”

  Rowan snorted. “You don’t need to remind me of that fact, my friend.” He stood naked then, holding out his hand. “Stay with me? Sleep with me once more? The comfort—the love—you offer…well, it’s beyond anything.”

  Marcus smiled and stood. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Without a second thought, Marcus stripped as well, following Rowan to the bedroom and sliding beneath the covers to sigh as his body met cool linen and even cooler Rowan.

  “I wish…” Rowan paused. “I wish we could love tonight. This night of all nights.”

  “’Twould not be wise. There’s too much at stake now, Rowan. You cannot feed from me to restore your energies. I am afraid that you’re going to need all the strength you possess—and maybe then some—for what lies ahead.”

  Rowan sighed. “I know. But still…”

  Marcus grinned. “Yes. It will be hard.” He moved his hips, turning on his side and nudging Rowan with his cock. “It’s already hard, as a matter of fact.”

  Rowan chuckled back. “Don’t tease me so. I shall sleep as the dead. You’re the one who may well be in for an uncomfortable night.”

  Marcus heaved a theatrical sigh. “I shall survive, I’m sure.”

  “Marcus?” Rowan turned to face him and lifted the sheet away from his friend’s body. “Do something for me?”

  “Name it.” Marcus’ response was immediate.

  Rowan paused then continued. “Let me watch you come? Touch yourself, stroke this lovely cock…” His hand drifted lower, caressing the hardness that lay between them. “Let me see your face, your body as you take your pleasure?”

  Marcus paused, eyes searching Rowan’s face.
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  “I know it’s a lot to ask. But…” He waited, anxious for Marcus’ response. Rowan needed distraction, passion, whatever it was—something to remind him that there were other matters in the world besides Thérèse. Even if only for a short time.

  “How can I refuse?”

  Rowan settled himself on his side, one arm supporting his head as Marcus lay flat on his back and kicked away the linens. He raised one leg, bending it at the knee, comfortable now and reaching down between his legs to the length of flesh that was close to fully extended.

  “Thank you.” Rowan whispered the words as Marcus began a leisurely movement, a stroke that made Rowan’s mouth water.

  How easy it would be to push that hand aside and replace it with his lips. And how hard he was becoming himself, just from watching his friend and lover find pleasure in his own touch.

  Marcus sighed, fingers tightening a little, skin bunching and smoothing as his arousal grew in intensity. His eyes drifted closed, the room silent but for the soft sounds of skin on skin.

  Harder than ever, Marcus shifted, hips joining this dance for one. His cock was rigid, purpling at the swollen head and reddening along the shaft. Veins marbled the surface and Rowan watched with hungry delight as Marcus continued his self-induced stroll to bliss.

  This cock was a work of art, in Rowan’s opinion. Strong and masculine, thick where it should be thick and carved into ridges and valleys that screamed sensuality and male pleasure.

  A bubble appeared from the tiny slit, a drop of delight that Marcus smeared over himself with a practiced swipe of his thumb. The little gasping sigh from his lips found a mate in the sound Rowan made, an unconscious little whisper of encouragement, of arousal.

  Had he been free of this curse, he would have been all over Marcus in that instant. But he was not free. He could only watch, knowing his strength must not be dissipated in a moment’s release, no matter how much he desired it. It was indeed, to use Marcus’ phrase, hard.

  Rowan did his best to ignore his own desires, simply enjoying the vision of his friend and lover beside him. Whatever arousal he possessed would wither when his deathly sleep claimed him.