by Kallysten
Don would be there soon to help make her talk, and Vincent couldn't help but wonder if Lilia would inform him about what had happened. It would be just like her to gloat and embarrass him. Even if she didn't, there was still a chance that Don would notice the round bruise half hidden by her collar and ask about it. On the other hand, he might notice the bite marks on Vincent's neck and that wouldn't be any easier to explain.
With an admonition to Lilia not to do anything stupid, he stepped into the bathroom and pulled at the collar of his shirt, exposing his neck. Carefully, he touched the slightly puffy bite marks that now adorned the left side of his neck as he inspected them in the mirror. That simple touch sent sparks down his spine, and when he closed his eyes, he was back in the bedroom, with Lilia writhing above him, her eyes filled with all the love she had for him...
"It won't fade, you know."
Startled, he opened his eyes and realized that, from where she sat, Lilia could turn her head and see what he was doing through the open bathroom door. Moreover, he could see in the mirror the empty chair in the middle of the living room behind him. His heart jumped in his chest as for a second he forgot that she had no reflection and he glanced back through the open door, relieved to see her exactly where he had left her. Facing the mirror again, he ignored her and adjusted his collar carefully, making sure that it hid the marks completely.
"Neither of our marks will fade,” she continued when he didn't respond. “And there's no way to break the Mating. Did you know it when you suggested it?"
Still refusing to listen to her, Vincent came back to the living room and stood in front of her. By the look she gave him, she believed he was going to answer, but he remained silent as he tugged at her shirt's collar, making sure it completely covered the bite mark he had left on her.
The heavy ropes that coiled around her torso and arms left her little freedom to move, but she managed to reach up and close her hand on his wrist as he was pulling back.
"Did you?” she insisted.
Her hand sent a wave of goose bumps over his skin and Vincent wasn't sure whether he wanted the contact to continue or to stop. Such an innocent touch, and yet it was enough to bring him back again to the bedroom, back to the graveyard, back even to the innocent moments they had shared as they walked to his home...
Three knocks on the door startled him and he pulled free reflexively. Shaking his head to get rid of the intrusive memory, he went to open the door to Don. Before he did, however, he gave Lilia a fleeting glance and finally answered her question.
"I did."
* * * *
As soon as the words passed his lips, Jordan turned back to the door, and Lilia was left to stare at the back of his head, unsure of what to think.
He had known.
He had known, when he had suggested that they Mate, that it was a one-way ticket, and that neither of them would ever be the same again.
He had known. Or had he? What did he know exactly about Mating? He had known enough to bite her hard, to the blood, right in the instant of climax, but he may have just been following his instincts and her lead. What else did he know? What he had learned in a book? Books about vampires were so often full of nonsense; some vamps had been known, over the centuries, to publish volumes of supposedly brand new information about vampires’ abilities and their culture that were in fact a mix of half truths and lies written to confuse men such as Jordan.
Maybe he didn't know as much as he thought he did. Maybe she would have to tell him what it meant exactly that they were now Mates. What she knew of it from witnessing it firsthand. It was rare for two vampires to decide to Mate; when you know, or think, that you will live forever, you have to be sure you'll still be able to stand each other in a hundred years or in ten times that number. It was even more rare for a vampire to choose a human Mate, and always done as a prelude to the human being turned.
The one pair of Mates Lilia had ever known had been a Sire and Childe, but they hadn't Mated until long after the girl had been turned. Lilia had been a mere fledgling when she had witnessed the Mating ritual; it was a rare enough event that Masters were usually invited to attend, and they sometimes took a younger vampire with them, as Nathanael had done by bringing her. She remembered being in awe at the raw power she could feel emanating from the couple as they fucked and then Mated; everybody in the room had felt it, and the scene had turned into a literal orgy after the Mates had finished their first round. She remembered, also, how she had, very carefully, asked Nath if they would ever Mate, and the laugh that had been his reply. She had been hurt, at the time, still young and naïve enough to believe he loved her to the exclusion of anyone else and unable to comprehend yet that Nathanael was incapable of truly loving anyone other than himself. But twenty some years later she had understood his answer when she had seen the girl again, more than half mad and pleading for someone to end her life; her Mate had been staked three weeks earlier. The broken link was making her existence a literal hell.
Shaking herself from her memories, Lilia tried to concentrate on what Jordan and the newly arrived human were talking about. Some kind of spell, from what she understood. A spell they were going to do on her. And tied up as she was, there was little she could do about it.
Maybe it didn't matter what Jordan had known or not, she reflected as the man—Don, she thought was his name—started to pull out jars and herbs from a duffel bag. Because whatever he had had in mind when they had Mated, and Lilia still couldn't believe that she had consented to that, still couldn't understand how even magic could have made her lose her mind to that point, the result was the same. They were Mates. And what truly mattered now was for Jordan to realize that if he staked her, he would follow her into the other world before a month had passed.
Chapter 4
It had been a simple mission. So simple, actually, that Lilia had scoffed and started arguing when Nathanael had sent her out. Any of the minions could have done it, and if Nath had wanted one of his Childer to do it, he could have asked Alexei, the boy was all too eager to obey orders and have his latest mistake forgiven. But Nathanael had given her that look, the one that promised she would dearly regret questioning his orders in front of others again. In private, he accepted much more from her than when they had an audience, and she had forgotten herself for a moment. She had bowed her head and walked away giving all appearances of being chastised; but in truth, she was rolling her eyes at his stubbornness. Her biggest mistake though had been to refuse an escort. If she had had a couple of minions with her, maybe none of this mess would have happened, and she wouldn't be chained in the middle of her most annoying enemy's living room at that moment.
Now sitting at the center of a circle of sand and candles, Lilia squirmed in her chair. She hated the silence that had fallen on the room except for the incomprehensible mumbles Jordan's friend sometimes let out. She hated that she could feel Jordan's eyes on her from where he was behind her back. But more than everything, she hated being stuck in that damn chair. She could have gotten rid of the ropes easily enough; they weren't tied very tightly and she could have broken free of them by tugging hard. That wouldn't have helped her much, however, not with the heavy shackles at her feet, bolted to the floor and magically reinforced, as Jordan had made a point to specify. She trusted he knew his job well enough to own restraints that would contain a vampire; there was no point in wasting her energy by trying to break those.
"It's ready,” the man said at last.
"You're sure?” Jordan asked, sounding skeptical.
"Of course I'm sure,” came the slightly hurt reply. “I botched one spell, doesn't mean I'm going to mess up everything I do."
"Hey, I'm just saying, I thought I remembered a flash of light from the last time. Maybe I'm wrong. I wasn't implying anything."
There was a pause, and Lilia wished she could have seen them, what they were doing. Finally, the man sighed and said:
"I know you're not. But we both know it's not the first time I mes
sed up, and..."
"I trust you,” Jordan interjected. “Don't start with the ‘I'm quitting’ speech because I'm not listening to that again."
Another sigh.
"It's a different spell, supposedly more powerful than the one I used last time. Go ahead, then. Ask her something."
She could hear him come closer before he actually came into to her view. Jordan made a point of remaining outside the circle as he came to stand in front of her. His face was unreadable as he observed her for a moment before asking:
"What is your name?"
She rolled her eyes at him. “Lilia. As if you didn't know that."
"Your human name. What were you called before you were turned?"
He knew that too, he had thrown the name in her face the very first time they had met, expecting probably to surprise her; well, she had been surprised. And so had he when she had carved the L into his face to help him remember that she only had one name now and it was...
"Hélène Liliane Alexandra de Saint-Simon."
The words had rolled off Lilia's tongue without her accord, and her eyes widened, as she finally understood what the spell they had been talking about was.
"Looks like it's working,” Jordan assessed, smiling faintly. “Let's get to it, then. Why did Nathanael want the Jonason kid turned?"
To her deep horror, Lilia found that she could not refuse to answer. As hard as she tried to remain silent, or even lie, what she knew spilled out of her and all of it true.
"Nath had been keeping an eye on him for a while, and recently Jonason started showing signs of being both a seer and a wizard. Nathanael has wanted a seer in the clan for years, ever since you staked Carol, and the occasion was too good to pass up having a wizard as well."
With each word that escaped her lips, a growing sense of finality settled in Lilia. She was dust. Even if Jordan didn't kill her—and if he wanted to live, he certainly wouldn't—Nathanael would carve her heart out when he learned how much she had revealed of his plans to his biggest foe.
"Remind me to take a roll call of the seers in the region,” Jordan said, his eyes trained over her shoulder as he talked to his friend. “I'll need to warn them to be extra careful."
The man behind her let out a dry laugh. “Do they really need the warning if they're truly seers? Shouldn't they be able to see the big bad vamps coming for them?"
Jordan shrugged. “Jonason didn't. Or maybe he didn't mind...” His eyes shifted back to her, piercing and demanding. “Did he want to be turned?"
Once more, Lilia's mouth formed words without her consent. “I don't know."
Annoyed as much by what was happening as she was by the sight of the human—her Mate!—talking to her as though nothing had happened, as though he didn't feel the pull that was making her neck itch and her body ache for him, Lilia closed her eyes. The questions continued to come, and she continued to fight, without success, before answering each and every one of them.
* * * *
Somehow, Vincent started breathing more easily when Lilia's eyes finally left him. Her gaze had been unsettling, so angry and accusatory it made him uncomfortable. And that was strange, because he had seen Lilia angry before, he had seen her much more upset than this, and it had never bothered him until now. The obvious answer was that their Mating was affecting him, but he refused to even let the thought come to the front of his mind. He had to pretend nothing had happened, at least as long as Don was there. After that, he and Lilia would need to have a small talk and settle things. Until then, he was interrogating a prisoner, nothing else. Nothing more.
"How many vampires are there in Nathanael's clan?"
"About fifty."
"Not ‘about', Lilia. I asked how many. I want a precise number."
He was glad that his shock didn't transpire in his voice. He had known Nathanael's clan was large, that was, after all, why he, Peter and Don had first decided taking it down would help them establish their reputation, and why the clan had remained his main target for years. But he had never heard of a clan that large; his instructors at the academy had always said that vampire clans usually counted between five and fifteen members, no more.
"I don't know. You could have killed three last night before you snatched me for all I know, or two more could have been sired..."
"To the best of your knowledge. Think about it for a minute and give me a number. You and Nathanael included."
Her head lowered slightly, but he still could see her lips moving, counting, until she finally said “Forty-seven."
"How many of those are Nathanael's Childer? Including you?"
The slight tightening of her jaw betrayed her anger even as her voice remained perfectly flat. “Three."
"What are their names?"
Behind her, Don was taking notes of everything Lilia was saying. Some of it, Vincent already knew or assumed, but experience had taught him not to let the enemy know how much he knew exactly. The only thing he was truly surprised about, as he continued his interrogation, was the true location of Nathanael's lair. He had been searching for it for years, and if Lilia was telling the truth—which Vincent had no doubt she was—he had been close, very close to it several times without ever being aware of it.
He had been thinking about a frontal attack for a long time, discussing with Don spells that would help and approaching some Special Enforcers he knew with the idea of a joint effort. Capturing whatever vampire sent to fetch Jonason had felt like a great way to get the reconnaissance information he needed. He realized now that it would take more work than that. He would have to call more Special Enforcers than he had planned, maybe even from out of town, and the more people involved, the harder it would be to set up. Special Enforcers were often loners, who worked at the most with one or two other people but who often hunted alone as he did, and to plan an operation to get rid of Nathanael's clan would take time and effort; it would be worthwhile, though.
It took more than an hour for him to ask everything he wanted to know or hear confirmed, but he eventually ran out of questions; or at least, there was nothing else he wanted to ask in Don's presence. If it had been just him and Lilia, he might have added a couple more about what had happened to them earlier, but Don wouldn't have understood if Vincent had asked him to step out for a minute.
In seconds, the spell was over, the candles back in Don's supplies bag, and the sand magicked back into its jar. All that remained to prove that something had been going on were the extensive notes Don had taken and Lilia's barely contained anger as she opened her eyes again. The look she gave him made cold beads of sweat run down Vincent's back, but he ignored them and, grinning at her, thanked her. If looks could have killed, his death would have been excruciating.
Turning his back on her, Vincent shifted his attention to his friend. Don hadn't said much, but something had felt off with him ever since he had walked in. It was probably because of the botched spell. Now that he had the information he had hoped for, Vincent wanted to hear what had gone wrong. He had told Don earlier he didn't want to hear him talk about pulling back and it was true. But he needed to know what had caused this uncharacteristic blunder.
"You have a minute?” Vincent asked after Don had finished putting away his spell supplies.
Don grimaced and nodded before following Vincent into the kitchen for a semblance of privacy. The half wall would let every word out and Lilia would be able to hear everything they said, but Vincent didn't feel comfortable discussing the spell that had led to their Mating while she was too close.
"So, what happened?” he asked when Don had pulled a stool from under the island and sat down. “Why did the spell go wrong?"
Without asking, he picked a bottle of wine on the rack and poured two glasses. It was early morning and the sun would rise soon; coffee might have been more appropriate than wine, yet Don took his glass with a grateful nod. He didn't bring it to his lips though as he talked, choosing instead to peer into the dark wine as though its depths concealed answ
ers to all the questions he had ever had, especially those about women.
"It was Jeanie. She called me just before you did, and ... what she said just threw me off my game."
On Vincent's pointed look, Don kept on, his voice becoming a little quieter. “She has officially broached the topic of marriage,” he said with a forced smile when he looked back at Vincent. “And I totally blew that, too. She said she wanted to talk, and it was such a bad time, with you out there and the spell to do at just the right moment. I got your signal while I was on the phone with her."
Vincent took a sip and then nodded. That explained at least why Don had been late in doing the spell after he had given him the signal.
"So I started mixing the ingredients,” Don continued, “and I told her we'd talk later because I needed to finish the spell. And out of nowhere she says it's marriage she wants to talk about. Startled the hell out of me, and that's when I butchered the spell, too much willow bark at the wrong moment. And I fucked things with her too, because I didn't have a clue what to say and she took that as my answer."
His woeful tale finished, Don drank the full glass in one long gulp, grimacing as he always did at the alcohol's burn. Vincent simply stared at him.
"Told you,” Don sighed when he noticed the look on Vincent's face. “I blew it all around."
Getting back to his senses, with a slight shake of his head, Vincent tried to offer whatever words of comfort and consolation might be appropriate in such a situation, but he didn't really hear anything of what he was saying. Suddenly, everything was clear. He had of course been certain since waking up from the spell that the marriage and Mating talk had been a direct result of it, but now he had a clearer idea of how a one-sided non-aggression spell could have turned into mutual love.
