by F. E. Heaton
Her marks throbbed in unison, a deep pain that shook her to the bone and made her want to rub them in the hope it would bring some relief. She could feel the tickle of the magic as it played around her fingers. It was there if she needed it. That's what it was telling her. There was no way she was going to use it though. She'd rather die than hurt him.
He was closing in now, barely a few feet from her. His pace was steady, a slow purposeful stride that told her he was making the most of this moment. He wanted her scared. He was feeding off it.
Her eyes remained locked on his. It was hard to tell in this light whether he'd completely changed into his vampire guise. The night was washing away all colour, leaving his skin lifeless and his eyes dark. He was still wearing the jacket he'd had on at the ball. Her heart ached to recall how good it had felt to be in his arms that evening and how wonderful it had been to dance with him and kiss him.
She heard the thud of his boots on the wooden boards of the veranda and readied herself. He didn't need an invite. Any moment now, she was going to discover just what she'd let herself in for.
She was glad he didn't have a sword on him.
But she wasn't holding her breath about it turning out nice like her other vision.
He was only a couple of metres from her when he crossed the threshold and a blinding light filled the room. She brought her hand up to cover her eyes and flinched away from it. It disappeared, leaving her vision dulled.
She lowered her hand and stared at Valentine.
He stared right back, shock visible in his eyes.
She wondered what was wrong when he looked down at himself, holding his arms out by his side and then casting a glance over his shoulder at the door. He looked back at her again, his brows meeting in a confused frown.
"What happened?” he said.
Tears sprung into her eyes on hearing his voice and she had to fight hard to stop herself from going to him. She kept her distance and kept her senses locked on him in case it was all an act.
He gave her a gentle look, one that conveyed all his feelings to her and made her throat tighten with the emotions it brought to the surface. Her chest warmed and her brows furrowed. She silently prayed that this wasn't a trick. She couldn't understand it either, but from where she was standing, he looked cured.
In his face, there wasn't a trace of the heartless killer she'd seen in him that night.
He looked at his hands and his face screwed up in agony.
"What have I done?” he said in a broken whisper so full of pain that she found herself taking a step towards him.
He took a step back and shook his head.
She froze, hurt by his actions.
"What's happening?” she said and held her hand out, desperate for him to take it, dying to be close to him and have his arms around her.
"This is not possible. Elena's spell over me was complete. I feel no trace of it now.” He looked over his shoulder at the garden. “But out there I did."
Her gaze fell to the threshold of the house. What was the blinding light she'd seen? She looked at her mother's portrait and then her eyes widened.
"This place is my mother's. She had a box with spells in upstairs and some of them were magically protected. Maybe it's the same with the house.” She walked towards him to go to the door and he leapt away to the side, keeping a distance between them. Didn't he trust himself around her? She reasoned that Elena had sent him here to kill her. It was no wonder he didn't trust himself. He was probably waiting for Elena's command over him to come back.
She looked at him. He was staring at his hands again, his eyes clouded.
She didn't know what it was like to be under Elena's spell, but from the pain in his eyes and the way he stared at his hands, she got the impression he was horrified by the things he'd done. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't him who had done those things, whatever they were, but the words wouldn't come. Even if she had been able to speak them, there would be little comfort in them. If she were in his shoes and doing terrible things like he had clearly been, she would find no comfort in being told it wasn't her fault. She would blame herself too.
She knelt beside the door and touched the boards just in front of the threshold of the house. Patterns shimmered into life. It was a spell.
Her eyes moved to Valentine and she stood slowly.
"I don't know what they mean, but I don't think Elena's spell works here."
When she stepped forwards, he moved backwards again.
"There is something I must tell you.” Guilt flickered in his eyes.
She nodded, her whole body tense as she tried to ready herself. Whatever he had to say, it was going to be bad, but she could see that by saying it, he would heal himself a little. Whatever he'd done, it wasn't his fault really. It was Elena, and it would be Elena she would take her anger out on, not Valentine.
He turned away from her and hung his head. She didn't dare move forwards, not even when she sensed the sadness in him.
"I am sorry.” His voice was so low and quiet that she barely heard him.
It sounded as though it was taking a lot of effort for him to speak. Silence stretched, fraying her last nerve until it snapped and her hands shook, her breath trembling as she focused on it, trying but failing to steady herself. She could feel the depth of his pain and she knew that whatever he'd done, it had cut him to the core, traumatising him in some way. What could he have possibly done that had hit him so hard?
She swallowed. Icy cold crept into her body, filling her up while she waited for him to speak.
"I ... you...” He stumbled on the words.
She could feel the tension radiating off him. Her eyes dropped to his hands and she saw they were tightly clenched shaking fists. Blood dripped from between his fingers, squeezing through the cracks. He was hurting himself.
She ventured a step forwards and raised her hand, her heart breaking when she saw his shoulders heave in a sigh.
She wanted so badly to comfort him but she had to let him confess to whatever was causing him pain first. He needed to say the words and get them out into the open.
"Valentine?” she whispered, hoping to give him strength by showing him that she was still here for him, waiting for him to come back to her.
He sighed again and then lowered his head even more.
"I killed him."
The words made her mind race but she could only draw one terrible conclusion.
"Caden,” she said. When she'd called Venturi to tell him she'd arrived at the airport, he'd mentioned that he hadn't been able to find her father.
Valentine's shoulders tensed.
He'd killed her father. That's why he was so guilty. But he'd been under her sleeping spell the whole time her father had been around. It wasn't possible.
"You knew?” She stared at his back.
"I knew. I heard you speaking to him, and I heard Mia and Dmitri had arrived ... and the Tenebrae. I did not want it to end that way ... it was swift. Merciful."
Merciful.
She repeated the word in her head, knowing exactly what he was telling her. He had given her father a clean death, rather than draw it out like Elena had expected him to. He'd been merciful.
She glanced at her mother's painting and then pressed her amulet against her heart.
Elena would pay for what she'd done.
It was Elena's hands that were stained with the blood of her father. Not Valentine's.
Prophecy walked over to him and slid her hands up his back. She let them rest on his shoulders while she pressed her cheek against his back. He made no move to hold her, he just stood in the same position he'd been the whole time, dejected and broken by the things Elena had made him do.
Closing her eyes, she tried to think of something to say. He was waiting. She knew what he wanted to hear.
"It wasn't you who did those things. You had no choice. If you have to blame someone, blame Elena or myself. You killed him because of me, didn't you? You had to know where
I was, and you knew I'd be here because of my visions. Just like I knew you'd be here.” She slipped her hands down over his biceps and held him a little tighter. “There's nothing to forgive, Valentine. He was my father, but that was as far as it went. I could never love him after the things he'd done to me, and to you. If I had been given the same choice of letting him live or seeing you again, I would have made the same decision. I can't live without you."
He turned and wrapped his arms about her, holding her close to him. She buried her face against his chest and furrowed her brows, her emotions constricting her throat as elation over being in his arms swept through her. It was something she'd never thought she'd feel again. It made her heart want to break.
"I am sorry,” he whispered into her hair.
She locked her hands against his back, refusing to let him go and not wanting the sadness of their future marring this moment. She wasn't a fool. She knew that he had to return to Elena sooner or later. They couldn't stay here forever.
Pulling back, she looked up at his face. The dim light from the outside world made it pale and blue. She raised a hand and drew a tentative fingertip down his cheek, caressing it gently. When he smiled a slight smile, her confidence and courage grew. She swept her thumb across his lips, her eyes fixed on his the whole time. He pressed a kiss to it and narrowed his eyes tenderly.
Tears rose into hers again and she didn't want to break this moment between them by moving to wipe them. She gave him a shaky smile when the pad of his thumb brushed them away with a feather light touch that only brought more tears to her eyes. It felt like eternity since she'd seen him like this, not sick in her bed and slipping away. He was here with her, if only for a short while.
"Why did you leave?” she said in a quiet voice, her feelings overwhelming her too much to speak any louder.
A frown flickered on his brow and his eyes filled with sadness again. She cursed herself for mentioning it and ruining the peace they'd been sharing. For a moment, she'd felt as though everything had dropped away—the war, Elena, the whole of it. There had been only her and Valentine.
"Because I am a danger to you. I had to give you time to find the strength to either cure me or kill me.” He didn't relinquish his grip on her and she was thankful for his comforting touch while she dealt with what he'd said.
She'd never kill him.
Valentine watched her face closely while she stared at him. In her eyes, he could see all of her feelings for him and he knew that she was thinking. She was thinking about what he'd said and the prospect of having to kill him. A tear slid down her cheek, leaving a trail that glistened in the low light.
He raised his hand and swept it away, his fingers remaining resting lightly against her cheek. He took in the beautiful look she gave him, so full of love and understanding, and not one sign of anger over what he'd done.
"I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I'm sorry I brought you into this and what it's done to you.” Her lower lip trembled as she spoke and more tears filled her eyes.
He wanted to kiss away all her fears and promise her that everything was going to be all right, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to her. He had no way of knowing how this was all going to end. The confidence he'd once had had drained away, taking all hope with it. He tried to be strong for her, knowing that she relied on him to bring her a ray of hope in this time of darkness. Elena hadn't broken him yet. He would never kill Prophecy. He would make sure he could never kill her.
Drawing her back into his arms, he held her head against his chest so there was no way of her looking at him while he said what he had to. She wouldn't like it one bit, but it had to be done, if only so she knew how he truly felt about her.
Closing his eyes, he pressed a kiss to her hair and then whispered the words into it.
"You have to do what is right, no matter what. Understand? You must do what is right by your destiny and your heart. When the time comes, I will understand. I know that to fulfil the prophecy you must kill me.” He drew a slow breath when she tensed against him, her fingers digging into his chest. He hated hurting her like this, but he had to make her see that he was all right with it. If he had to die in order for her to live, he was happy to sacrifice himself. “I will always have this time with you and that has made my existence worthwhile. You are incredible, Prophecy. I have never met someone as strong or beautiful as you."
She pushed against his chest and broke free of his grasp. Tears were streaking her face, cascading down her cheeks in an endless stream. It was futile to attempt to wipe them away when more would replace them almost instantly, but he did it anyway. He could feel her shaking beneath his fingers and the look in her eyes wrenched his heart.
"Don't leave me,” she said, her fingers grasping his jacket, holding it so tightly that he was surprised she didn't tear the material.
"I will never leave you.” He opened his hand and cupped her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing and her hands coming up to grip his wrist, holding his hand against her. “I will always be with you."
"I know. Just don't go yet.” She stepped closer to him, back into his embrace.
He glanced at the open door. There was still a long time until the sun rose and he wasn't planning on leaving until the very last moment. Her mother had granted them this time together, free of Elena's spell, and he'd be a fool if he didn't take advantage of it.
Stooping slightly so his face was level with hers, he smiled. She tried to reciprocate it but her lips trembled too much. He drew her towards him, bringing his mouth against hers, and kissed her slowly. He'd forgotten how good it felt to have her this close to him. He'd forgotten how much he loved her and how easily she could tell him she loved him with just one kiss. It was slow, sensual. It tugged at his innermost feelings, bringing them up to the surface in the hope that she'd be able to know them all from this kiss alone.
She wrapped her arms about his neck and he lifted her up, settling her legs around his waist. Holding onto her, his tongue played gently against hers while he carried her up the stairs. It reminded him painfully of the first time they'd made love, back in England. Everything had seemed so much simpler back then, their future together a definite, and their unknown enemy just another molehill to overcome.
Now their molehill had become a very dangerous mountain.
He pushed away his heavy thoughts and focused on Prophecy. This moment together should be special. It was about them, about their love for each other and their desire to spend eternity in each other's embrace.
The world didn't exist in this place.
In his eyes, she was now the world.
And in hers, he was everything.
Chapter 22
Valentine held back the sadness, pushing it down inside him and ignoring the tears that crept into his eyes before he got control of his feelings.
Prophecy pulled back and pointed down the hall. He followed her lead, kissing along her jaw and down her neck while her fingers worked to unbutton his jacket.
Setting her down in the room, he cleared the hair from her face and looked at her. He unbuttoned her shirt, gradually revealing the subtle curves of her body. Pushing the garment off her shoulders, he lowered his head and kissed down her chest. He drew the shirtsleeves down her arms and tugged them off over her hands. Kneeling in front of her, he tossed the shirt to one side as he planted soft kisses on her stomach. He felt as though he was worshipping her with kisses and his desire.
He tilted his head back, his gaze seeking hers. She smiled down at him, her hand running over the back of his head, her fingers threading into his hair. Closing his eyes over the tenderness of her touch and the overwhelming affection he could feel in it, he kissed around her navel while undoing her combats. She sucked her stomach in when he pushed them down to her feet and swept his hands back up her legs, barely grazing her skin with them.
Sitting back on his heels when she stepped away from him, he watched her remove her boots and her trousers. She stood before him in her und
erwear, a seductive smile luring him to her. He got to his feet and took his jacket off, letting it drop to the floor and his fingers moving to slowly unbutton his shirt. He held the smile inside when she stepped forwards and started undoing his shirt as fast as she could. Her eagerness stirred the embers of his desire into flames.
Her hands ran over his chest and stomach as she exposed it and the look in her eyes turned hungry. She glanced at the bed and slid her fingers into the waistband of his trousers. He knew what she wanted and he was all too happy to give it to her, but first there was something he had to do.
Unzipping his trousers, he removed them and his boots, leaving him in just his underwear. He stepped towards her and looked deep into her eyes for the longest time, trying to see if she was really ready for this, or whether he was rushing into it. He had to do it. Time was running out.
Sweeping her hair back over her shoulder, he ran his eyes over the marks on her throat and then glanced at her face. She was watching him closely, desire darkening her eyes as she waited. The idea that she wanted him to bite her only served to heighten his need to do it, his desire to make her truly his.
He brushed his hands over her bra-clad breasts and she moaned quietly. Her eyes remained locked with his even as they narrowed and her whole body trembled beneath his roaming hands.
His gaze flicked to her neck and he swallowed hard, readying himself. His chest tightened, his feelings for her and fear of the impending battle urging him on. Sliding his hands around her sides, he splayed them out against her back and drew her to him, so close their bodies touched. It was a divine feeling to be skin on skin with her, feeling her soft body against his.
He lowered his head and pressed slow kisses along her neck, smiling at the way she tilted her head to one side to grant him better access. His fangs extended, his eyes switching to their blue vampiric state. He waited, savouring the way she shook with anticipation, and then sunk his teeth as deep into her as possible. He heard her gasp and her fingers tensed against his shoulders as her body went rigid. He pulled hard on her blood, filling his mouth with it and swallowing it down.
