Love is Darkness (A Valerie Dearborn Novel)

by Hanson, Caroline

  The theater was filled with tables, lots of men and a smattering of women. It was Prohibition and everyone was drinking with abandon, enjoying alcohol while they had access to it. Lucas watched Marian respond to the crowd around her, losing herself to the beat and pulse of the patron’s hearts and desires.

  He went to a table right before the stage, a reserved sign and an opened bottle of wine set before them. He held out a chair for her and she sat, smoothing her hair and shifting agitatedly in her seat. After 600 years she still responded like a mortal- quick to anger and fuck, always looking to laugh or cry, desperately seeking more.

  But Lucas knew the truth: eventually there was no more.

  He heard a groan from the stage and looked up from the table to see the performance nearing the end. Lucas presumed it was almost over, he’d heard one of the men have a climax and the other one was close, if the amount of grunting and writhing was any indication.

  Lucas looked back to the table. Hopefully the wine would be decent.

  Marion reached out her hand and touched his, a beseeching look in her eyes. She shook her head a little and he saw tears in her eyes.

  He flicked a glance to the stage, where the men had left, a lull before the next act began.

  “So wise, Lucas. Knowing everyone’s wants but your own. You bring me here and play me like a fiddle. I witnessed something beautiful on that stage. What did you see?”

  “I have no interest in making you believe I desire something from you. I want nothing but your compliance.”

  “What about my happiness?”

  He slanted her a narrow glance.

  “What about your happiness?” she said.

  “My wants. My happiness…. For someone who might not survive the evening you are very philosophical.”

  She jerked back from him. “If I become as cold as you then I will allow you to kill me in truth!”

  “Let us hope I am still around to see it. Look now. Here is your chance.”

  Marion looked around her like something was about to jump out at her.

  A few people shuffled out of the theater. Two men next to her rose and walked out, going towards a door that was held open by a woman wearing only a pair of lacy underwear.

  Marion watched the men embrace and he knew she felt loneliness like a stake through the heart.

  Then the crowd quieted and a woman came out onto the stage. She was fully dressed but wearing men's clothes, her shirt a crisp white and unbuttoned several buttons down, exposing a shadow of cleavage. She had short dark hair and was so severe with her hard gaze and bright red lips.

  Marion stared at her, transfixed.

  “Her name is Rachel,” Lucas said.

  Such presence from a mere human was very unusual. Rachel stood still, waiting, until another woman came out, crawling forward on hands and knees. She was naked, large breasts swaying with each forward motion, blond hair loosed and flowing over her shoulders. She held a riding crop between her teeth, gaze fixed on Rachel.

  She stopped at Rachel’s feet and sat backwards on her knees, face up tilted so that Rachel could take the crop, her face glazed with adoration and submission.

  Rachel reached down a hand and pulled the blond to her feet. She didn't take the crop, but left it clenched between the woman’s teeth. Rachel made a shushing noise and Marion reacted to the voice, leaning forward slightly, eyes swaying closed.

  One would think he had brought her to a hypnotist she was acting so entranced.

  Rachel stroked her hands down the woman's shoulders to her breasts where she pinched the women's nipples cruelly. The blond shivered and made another muffled noise. Rachel snapped her fingers and a young man appeared at her side, carrying a velvet cushion. Marion rose from her seat a little, trying to see what was on the cushion.

  “Nipple clamps and a fleschette,” Lucas explained patiently.

  She darted a quick glance at him, looking slightly suspicious.

  The show passed fairly quickly, small rivulets of blood sliding towards the edge of the stage and dripping to the floor as Rachel lightly cut into the naked, and now clamped, woman.

  And now Rachel stood on the stage alone, the bloody woman led off to recover, the audience stunned to silence by the violent performance. She slapped the fleschette against her thigh and waited.

  Her posture was casual, her attitude beyond confident as she waited. She glanced at Lucas and he inclined his head slightly. Rachel’s gaze turned to Marion, locked on her and for a moment their roles were reversed. Marion was the frightened human and Rachel was the Hunter who had captured her prey with her gaze.

  Marion stood and walked to the stage, extended her hand and it was grasped loosely as the cruel woman jumped to the floor gracefully. She inclined her head, “I'm Rachel.”

  Marion smiled and blushed, “Rachel. I'm Marion.”

  Rachel cocked her head to the side and slid her hands into her pants pockets, watching expectantly.

  They stood that way for a moment, silent and assessing and then Marion laughed, a sound so fresh and happy, that for the barest moment Lucas thought he felt a tiny twinge of envy.

  Rachel smiled back and gestured towards the rooms where they could be alone. Marion dropped her hand and began to walk out of the main room, sashaying her hips in a bold invitation.

  Rachel glanced at him again before nodding—a bargain struck. Then she followed Marion into one of the rooms.

  Lucas glanced at his wine, decided to leave it and disappeared.

  Chapter 15

  Rome, Italy

  The rustling sound of satin woke Valerie up. Her body tensed and she lay there like a surprised rabbit. She was sure she'd heard a noise, but it was dark, still the middle of the night and the door was locked. Oh right, locked doors kept out no one truly dangerous.

  Was it Jack? What time was it? She was too afraid for it to be Jack.

  Had Lucas come back? An inappropriate and poorly timed image of him prowling up the bed to finish what they had started—

  Someone was pacing in her room, not even attempting to be quiet. Not Lucas.

  The smell of iron and rotting flowers was so strong she could taste it in the back of her throat, had to resist the urge to gag. Vampire.

  If she could get her hand under her pillow and find her gun without the vampire knowing, she might get out of this. She moved slowly, hand steady, eyes closed, breath even. This was a do or die moment. Either she was calm and got shit done or she was going to die.

  A tinkling laugh came from the dark. Was Doris Day a vampire?

  “Just get up sleepy head, I know you're awake. I've been making enough noise...” she paused theatrically and continued in a whisper, “to wake the dead!” She laughed at her own joke and Valerie felt her stomach cramp painfully in terror. Marion.

  “Let me put you at ease. Your little gun is gone and if you scream I'll kill anyone who comes to help you.”

  The light switched on and Valerie saw a vision of crimson before her. Marion’s auburn hair was piled on top of her head, the red gown long and made with yards and yards of satin as though she were going to a 19th century opera performance instead of some crappy little hotel room in Italy.

  Hysterically, she wondered if there was a height requirement for being a vampire. Marion, Lucas and Rachel, they were all so tall.

  Marion smoothed her skirts demurely and settled herself into the same chair Lucas had occupied a few hours ago. She leaned back and paused, like a cat seeing a ghost. Her delicate nostrils flared. A peculiar look flashed across her face and then was gone. Rage? Jealousy?

  Her expression settled on content happiness, which did nothing to ease the knot of fear in Val’s stomach. Marion ran her finger along the arm of the chair slowly, then wiped her hands against each other as though trying to brush off something distasteful. “Well, I see you have been a busy girl. Jack is here for you, Lucas has been...right here for you and now you have me. We are going on a little trip. Kind of like a girl's weekend, but with m
ore blood.” She laughed again and Valerie pulled the covers tighter around her.

  Marion waved a finger at Valerie as though she were talking to a naughty puppy, “Now you listen to me dearie, so long as you don't muck about you should come out of this alive. Though, Lord knows, you don't seem worth it. So hop out of bed and get dressed. Wouldn't it be dreadful if Jack showed up and I was here? What would he do? Can you imagine? He's got quite the death wish....I like that in a man.” She finished decisively.

  Val stood up, her legs fairly steady as she went to the closet to find something to wear. “It's going to be bloody freezing so wear something warm. If you have something of Lucas' that would be even better. You don't want a hungry vampire to forget that you are marked property. His scent will keep them away.”

  Val grabbed her jeans and sat down to put them on. “No, I don't have anything of his. I think you misunderstand. He really has no interest in me. It's a business relationship.”

  Marion's voice was lethally quiet. “What business would he have with a Hunter’s daughter? You are too stupid to speak. If you don't have any value to him then I may as well kill you now. So try again....”

  She glided over, her knuckles brushing down Val’s cheek and resting against her neck. Fingers dug into her pulse. It hurt and made it hard to breathe. Val began to feel faint.

  “Tell me you have value. Tell me he will choose you, and you can come along.” The fingers pushed harder and Valerie began to choke.

  “Yes!” she gasped out.

  Marion released her, clapping her hands in pleasure. “Great! This is going to be fun. Get dressed already.” She settled back in the chair and casually flipped through a magazine while Valerie got her breathing back under control.

  “So tell me about it.”

  Val paused. “About what?”

  “About Lucas. Isn’t he great in bed? So virile. So forceful. Although I confess that I am quite surprised. A Hunter’s daughter. After all this time, who’d think that would be the switch to flick. Click? What does one do with a switch? It’s not a branch to whip with anymore, is it?”

  Val didn’t know what to say and decided the questions were rhetorical. She buttoned her jeans and looked for a shirt.

  Marion ripped a page out of the magazine and waved it at Valerie. “Put this in your purse, will you. I want this dress. I should have worn something with a pocket. Funny, isn’t it, all this fabric and no pocket.”

  Hilarious.

  Val looked around the room, the moment feeling very surreal. Marion wanted to talk boys and fashion? I’m fucked.

  “How much of your blood has he had? How often does he drink from you? Has he promised to change you yet?”

  That was a lot of questions. “No. He’s not offered to change me.”

  Marion pursed her lips. “That’s odd. But he took you to our little dance, and I know how he’s watched you. Oh, he was worked up when you almost died on that dance floor.”

  The whole thing seemed a bit hazy to Valerie, no doubt fatal blood loss would do that to you, but “worked up” didn’t seem like an accurate description of Lucas’ behavior that night. Calm with moments of irritation seemed more apt.

  “Does he drink from you every day? Is it a quickie or do you feel faint afterwards?”

  It didn’t seem like a good idea to tell Marion that Lucas didn’t want her blood. He’d told her that a vampire might kill her for being an empath. “It’s his choice. We do whatever he wants.”

  Marion huffed and raised a hand to her chest as though shocked. “Let me give you some advice. Woman to…girl,” she said, condescendingly.

  Since Marion was cradle robbing anyone under 300 Val didn’t take offense.

  “Don’t give him whatever he wants. You will lose him very quickly. Never let him get bored. Although, really, Lucas has been bored for a good two hundred years, nothing you do can keep him for long, I expect. How do you entertain a man whose copy of the Kama Sutra is made of wood cuts?” Marion laughed.

  Was that a joke? Was she…serious?

  Val finished dressing, put on her coat and went to get her purse. She needed that purse. She didn't know how much the holy water and stake could really help her. If things came down to a hand to hand fight she was toast, but she had to have something!

  She put her purse over her, wearing it across her body so that it wouldn’t fall off while Marion studied her intently. She threw the magazine to the side lightly, her inhuman strength making the magazine slam into the wall with tremendous force, a little puff of paint and plaster chipping off and settling on the cover.

  “Right. You know how to do this. Put your arms around me, sweetheart.” Marion said suggestively.

  Val blinked and looked away. Not wanting to see Marion come towards her but afraid to look away as well. She felt Marion's bony arms clasp her and pull her forward so that their bodies were flush.

  She had to turn her face to keep from being pushed into Marion's small chest. The cold began at her feet, whipped around her, spreading upwards like she was a plant caught in winter’s first frost.

  The journey was terrible, painful and disorienting. When they materialized in a dark, basement-type room, little bits of ice clung to her fingers.

  Val wiped her icy hands on her clothes and Marion shrugged, a frown tugging her lips. “Damn that man, he's so good at everything. He makes me look like an amateur. Next time bring a hat.”

  Val spoke and noticed her breath fogged in front of her, “Why, damn him?”

  Marion shook her head lightly and looked around, as though trying to get her bearings. “Well, first of all, because he deserves it. He's been impossible for the last few hundred years. You know he used to be incredible— fabulous in the sack, and if you were going to rape and pillage, he was the man you wanted at your back.”

  She shook her head in disgust. “But now? The worst conversation! No parties. He doesn't even try to amuse us or keep us happy. Lucas used to get things done!” She paused, her head cocked birdlike to the left as she listened intently.

  Valerie didn’t hear anything.

  “I can feel him here somewhere. Come on then.”

  Marion rushed off and Val hurried to keep up, almost jogging. Her joints ached from the cold trip and she couldn't help but wonder why it had been so different from travelling with Lucas. Was it raw power or did he shelter her in some way?

  They came to a staircase and Marion rushed up them, already at the top when Val had only taken a few steps. She turned the corner and kept going while Val tried to move faster. She didn't think it would be a good idea to get lost.

  She needed to get to Lucas. He'd keep her safe. Even if she tried to make a break for it, she wouldn't get very far since Marion was so fast. She heard Marion call out a friendly greeting and then she backed up and looked down the stairs at Val, a wide smile on her face as though Val was in for a treat.

  Oh shit.

  Marion held a finger to her lips, signaling for Valerie to be quiet before moving out of sight again.

  What should she do? Should she be quiet? What if it was Lucas? She strained to listen but Marion's voice was low. Marion came back and gestured for Val to come up the stairs. “Surprise! What do you think? They didn't have any in blond.”

  Rachel stood before her, wearing a tailored black dress shirt with lace along the edges and a high collar. Her slacks were black wool, ending with a pair of insanely high heels that made her look like a runway model. Her blood red lips were arranged in a frown. Rachel looked Val over very carefully like she was an alien, maybe a unicorn.