Passions out of Time (An Era Apart Book 3)
Page 18
“Why? What would my departure achieve?”
“Leave that to me. If you really mean to support me, just do as I say and I’ll see you as soon as I get back. With Johnny.”
Expression unreadable, he watched her face for the longest time. She let him, nails digging into her palms, muscles locked until they began to ache. When he finally cast a glance toward the telepod, she released a silent sigh.
“Go ahead,” she prompted him. “I’ve got things to do.”
He stood up with a nod, went to the computers, typed in something, grabbed a small tool, walked to the telepod, and entered it.
“Be safe, darling. I’ll see you at home.”
“Bye, Dad.”
Immense relief enlarged her chest as the door slid shut. This father-daughter business seemed to have no end and did take a toll on a person. She relaxed her fingers, tiny red crescents appearing in the flesh of her palms.
“You did well, Tracy.”
She raised her head to smile at Raphael. The biting anger drained out of her body as she looked at his tall shape leaning against the doorframe. Such a handsome vampire. What would she do without him?
“Thanks. Dad gets on my nerves sometimes, especially when he lies to me, but I don’t think he’ll ever change.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Well, yeah, I . . .”
Her voice trailed off as an uncanny feeling seeped into her. She’d lived with her father most of her thirty-one years, she should be used to his ways by now. Did his behavior really upset her that much, or was she putting all the blame on him to avoid looking at her own shortcomings? Garrett would have torn his mansion and garden house apart, but he’d never have accepted the deal. She had.
“I don’t know, Raphael, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. We’ve wasted the immortal and I just want to go home with my family.”
She got to her feet, circled the long table, and walked past him to check on Johnny. Her baby slept, his blond hair curling around his cheeks.
“When he sleeps deeply like this,” she whispered, “he always makes me think of an angel. Gosh, but I got so scared for him.”
Her eyes watered as she observed her son’s peaceful features and motionless form under the bedcover. “Thank God, he’s safe now and the nightmare is over.”
“It is indeed which is why I’d like to say goodbye.”
Raphael’s mournful tone pushed her toward him. An unpleasant sensation swirling around her guts, she came to stand opposite him. “Where are you going?”
“Away.”
Her stomach got heavier at the sound of his voice. Pulse slowing down with a familiar sense of dread, she forced the words out.
“Away from me, you mean.”
“Yes.”
No, he didn’t try to sugarcoat it for her. He never did. Fingers trembling, she stared at his gorgeous face. “I don’t want to hurt you, Raphael.”
“It isn’t your fault. It’s just the way things are.”
“But surely there must be something I can do to . . .”
To what? Wrench out of him the feelings of loss and loneliness he experienced around her? Tears brimmed in her eyes when he shook his head.
“Tracy, there’s nothing either of us can do. All I wanted was to keep you and your son out of harm’s way. My job is done.”
“So you’re leaving?”
His nod pierced her through, the pain latching onto her heart like a ravenous leech as all her muscles tensed. “Will I see you again?”
Raphael also never lied to her. She clamped her hands together, her gaze suspended to the dark eyes of her guardian vampire.
“No.”
Her legs buckled, but he opened his arms and she sank against his chest for the last time. She quivered. He held her tighter, his chin heavy against her head as his body offered her comfort and reassurance. But not protection against the sadness rising, swelling, and bursting out of her.
Now her tears fell freely, wetting her cheeks, cooling the embers of her locked throat, exhausting her mind of rational thought. He was her guardian angel, he was kin, yet she’d never see him again.
“I love you, sister.”
“You can’t love, remember?”
The pain of losing him hardened her tone even as she gripped his coat within her fists and she pressed herself against his chest. He locked his arms around her shoulders, his whisper burning her heart.
“No, but that’s the closest I’ll ever get to loving someone. Were it not for you, I wouldn’t even be aware of the feeling. This is your gift to me, and I have no words to thank you for this life-altering legacy.”
His gratefulness suddenly filled her whole body. She cried and shuddered, unable to comprehend the depth of her emotion, unwilling to let go of him. Because if she did, he’d be out of her life forever.
“Raphael, that’s a damn double-edged gift.”
“Life isn’t a fairytale. The best intentions can hurt more than wounds, but they are everlasting.”
“I don’t care.”
“I know.”
She sniveled against his damp shirt, her cramped fingers releasing the back of his coat as she raised her head. “This is harder than killing the immortal.”
One of his rare smiles softened his expression, and she knew she’d miss him for the rest of her days. With an immense effort, she detached her body from his strong, protective embrace, feeling his arms releasing her. For the last time.
“Dry your tears, sister. You’ll be alive forever in my memories.”
He meant it literally and the thought lifted the corners of her mouth. She let loose a miserable sigh as he brushed his lips on her brow. Raphael’s kiss. The farewell kiss of a vampire from another world.
“I’ll never forget you, Raphael.”
His grin deepened while she took a step back. He glided his fingers into the inside pocket of his coat. “This is my gift to you.”
She lowered her eyes to the pendant nestled into his palm. Made of silver with medieval designs along the edges and in the shape of two crossed hearts, the beautiful, ancient-looking piece dried her throat. Yet she approached a hesitant finger.
“Oh, my God, where did you get this?”
“During one of my many travels. This artifact is one of a kind, it’s been in my possession for over two hundred years.”
“I can’t accept this present, it’s too precious.”
“Who else is precious to me, but you?”
She held her breath when he gently took hold of her hand to let the pendant slide onto her open palm. Pulse fluttering, legs weakening anew, she closed her fingers over the silver ornament. “I’ll treasure it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
He observed her in silence as she secured his gift inside the front pocket of her jeans. When she was done, he smoothed a lock of her hair.
“Evening is drawing nigh, Tracy. You need to go see your man now. I’ll watch over Johnny until you come back. Your son is safe with me.”
Yes, no danger threatened her boy. She hungered to speak to Garrett though her feet refused to move. Maybe with a little more time?
“Go,” Raphael said as he released her hair, “and don’t fear anything. You’re his woman just as he is your man.”
“I wish you were right.”
“I am.”
His heartbreaking smile resurfaced, holding in its soft curve the promise of a bright new future. This vampire personified humanity, kindness, and hope, yet he’d never hold a woman in his arms and find happiness.
Fresh tears threatening to blur her vision, she pressed her lips together, glanced at her sleeping son, and backed away. “I won’t be long. Thanks for staying with Johnny.”
“My pleasure.”
“I’ll stay with your son until you return, but you won’t see me leave.”
So this was it. The end of her journey in a parallel universe, the end of her time with her guardian vampire. The semi-gloom invading the room hit her. Evening came, carrying in its wake the shadows Raphael needed to keep on existing.
She choked on a sob but opened the door of the garden house. Her future lay outside, and her past would remain inside until it vanished without a trace. Despite the anguish slashing her belly, she had to move forward.
The sun foundered beyond the edge of the grounds. As dying rays bronzed the deep blue sky, she took a last look at her angel vampire.
“Goodbye, Raphael.”
Chapter 18
Tracy walked in a daze, the squeezing in her chest slowing her pace but allowing her to suck in deep breaths and subdue the wayward cadence of her pulse. Home to the dragon queen, the Burnes’ manor lay ahead, its grey and red walls challenging her to come forward. Except that she wouldn’t use the back door this time.
Claiming Garrett as hers required courage and boldness, yet even his bitchy mother wouldn’t stop her now. She was done being a good girl and listening to parent figures. So she’d climb the steps of the front door head high.
Jake, Andrew, and Ashton stood at the bottom of the stairs when she rounded the corner. Their conversation ceased as soon as they spotted her, their awkward stances and shifting gazes tightening her insides. Moving faster than the other two, the gunslinger came to meet her before he grabbed her hand.
“Dear Tracy, seeing you again has been a pleasure. However, I must take my leave. I don’t like being away from Jessica for too long.”
“I can understand that. Please, give her my love.”
“I’ll be happy to.”
“And Jake, let us know when the baby is born. Dad might upgrade his telepods, but I’m sure we’ll be able to stop by.”
“I will.”
A twinkle lit his blue eyes as he gave her the roguish grin that made Jessica fall for him. And probably a lot of other girls, too.
“Just a word of caution, Tracy. I wouldn’t enter the manor presently, stay outside with Andrew for a while.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
Jake waved his hand in a vague gesture, his smile deepening as he lifted her fingers to brush them lightly with his lips. “Let’s call it loud voices and broken trinkets. But when wrath abandons the bearer, peace is restored.”
Were Garrett and the dragon queen having a row? Was she smashing her Victorian plates and crystal glasses by any chance? Curiosity expanding her lungs, she nodded as the gunslinger let go of her hand and stepped aside.
“Farewell, Tracy. I’ll be looking forward to your visit.”
“So will I. See you, Jake.”
She watched him walk to the garden house before turning her attention back to the couple staring at her. With luck, they might answer her questions in a less poetic manner than Jake but with more accuracy.
When she approached them, Andrew made a move toward her, winced with pain, and then brought both his hands behind the small of his back.
Ashton hurried to rub his sore spot, worry painted on her delicate face. “The physician is coming, but you ought to lie down, dearest.”
“I fear I shall have to before long.”
He obviously took a worse hit than she’d figured, and the plain concern tautening Miss Perfect’s features spoke only of love and loyalty. Did Andrew harbor the same feeling for his wife? And what on Earth prompted him to marry the very girl he professed to dislike four years ago?
The door of the manor stood close as she came to stand in front of the couple. Closed, dark, and ominous. Without bothering with early twentieth-century courtesies, she got to the heart of the matter. “I’m going in to see Garrett.”
Andrew straightened up and stretched his back without flinching too much, his familiar grin brightening his face. “I had the notion you might. I’ll escort you.”
“That’s okay, really. You look like you’re in pain, maybe you’d better listen to your wife and go to bed.”
Silent up to now, Ashton moved her arm to slide it under her husband’s elbow while focusing on her.
“Miss Richardson, I understand I was under a misconception when we conversed earlier. I must apologize for my undignified behavior.”
Miss Perfect expressing regret to a lowborn American? Seriously? Perhaps she wasn’t so like her mother-in-law after all. Or her relationship with nice, charming Andrew changed her into a human being. In any case, she cared for the man, she appeared sincere, and she didn’t deserve the cold treatment.
“Don’t sweat it, Ashton, our conversation is already forgotten. Though I’m curious to know why you thought I was in love with your husband.”
“Garrett never mentions your name whereas Andrew always speaks very highly of you. How could I have assumed otherwise?”
Fair enough. Miss Perfect had been looking for Garrett this morning because of a broken chandelier, but her whole speech had been about Andrew.
“Well,” Tracy said, “I’m not sure what to say except that you married an awesome man who’s been a good friend to me.”
The English beauty beamed as she gazed at her husband, a fierce light shining in her blue eyes, her hand grabbing his. “I certainly agree with you.”
“It’s funny but the last time I looked in on you two, I didn’t get the impression you were into each other that much.”
They both blushed, Andrew probably recalling the conversation they’d had in the park. He stared at his wife before he let loose a sigh. “By George, I had an inkling that you’d remember the particular situation.”
“You bet. Ashton was engaged to Garrett.”
“So she was. However, my brother didn’t hold a place in her affections. She merely consented to wed him to please our parents.”
“I see.”
When would those damn arranged marriages be done and over with? In the next fifty years? Gliding her thumb along Andrew’s finger, Ashton glowed a shade redder and pursed her shapely mouth.
“As the wedding date neared, I found myself completely out of sorts. Also terrified. Revealing the inexistence of my feelings to Garrett and Lady Anne seemed impossible, and thus I began to despair.”
“So you turned to Andrew for comfort.”
“Yes, Miss Richardson. The urge to speak candidly bested my rationality. I harbored such fears of a loveless and forlorn life that I confess my utter failure to give some thought to Andrew’s fiancée.”
Oh, yeah, he’d been engaged at the time with a boring woman he didn’t seem to care for. Interesting how a true, born and bred lady like Ashton rejected all her convictions, beliefs, and impeccable manners when trapped. Regardless of time period, wealth, social rank, and cold, superior airs, women still strove for freedom.
The experience must have been hard on the girl because remembering made her eyes water. Seeing her distress, Andrew stepped up.
“Ashton confided in me at length, hence I began to view her in a different light. Needless to say, we fell in love.”
“Gosh, I guess you pissed off your family.”
“In a manner of speaking. Mother was beside herself with fury and she verbalized her extreme displeasure for weeks on end. My brother, however, didn’t appear to care a jot. I’d say he looked rather relieved.”
Because Garrett didn’t love Miss Perfect, but her. Because he never stopped hoping in spite of being convinced he’d never see her again. Warmth tingled along her spine as Andrew stroked his wife’s cheek with a
smile on his face.
“You see, Tracy, I am not the first-born son. The responsibility and handling of my family’s affairs don’t fall on my shoulders, thus, notwithstanding her disapproval, Mother relented. It is not so regarding my brother.”
What was he trying to tell her? That Garrett wouldn’t marry her because the Burnes’ empire would collapse without him? Almost the same warning her father gave a few minutes ago. With a weight burdening her stomach, she inhaled to fill her lungs and swallowed the ache in her throat.
Andrew pulled a face. “Ladies, I’m afraid I must lie down after all. I’d rather wait for the physician in my bed than out here in the dying light.”
He wouldn’t say the pain was killing him, yet he didn’t fool his wife. Features crunching, Ashton strengthened her grip on his arm. “I shall come with you.”
“No, my dear. I’d feel happier if you stayed with Tracy. She’s our guest and she might need your support.”
“Will she?”
“I fear so.”
For what? Confronting the dragon queen once the woman was done smashing plates and overpowering her first-born son? Not a chance. Whatever happened, she’d never utter a word to that bitch again.
Ashton nodded. “As you wish, Andrew.”
With a small smile to his wife, he climbed the steps to the manor. The dark door obviously didn’t look ominous to him because he pushed it open and crossed the threshold without pausing.
As he disappeared inside, recollections flashed through her mind. She saw clear pictures of his envious expression while in awe of the bond she shared with Garrett, as well as Andrew’s awkward attempt to tell her something before they realized the immortal was in the garden house.
Because she had a juicy and bitter bite of the stuffy society the Burnes brothers lived in, she suddenly knew why Andrew wished for more when he looked at his wife. In that department, she could help. Hell, she itched to help given that he deserved the best life. And if Miss Perfect dropped dead with shame, so be it.