by Trisha Baker
To his surprise, Maggie glared at the backpack they'd brought with them and it swung over to Jimmy's feet. Maggie ripped it open, threw him some of Lee's medical instruments, and then began barking out orders in the calm, concise tones of an experienced surgeon.
"Take the scalpel and slit open his chest," she said and hastily gulped down blood from the transfusion pack they'd brought. "I'd do it myself but I can't be so damned weak when I do the ritual. I have to feed and we don't have a second to lose."
Meghann drained the bag while she gave Jimmy the rest of his instructions telepathically. He did everything she told him to do, thanking God that Lee Winslow had given him some instruction in medicine over the years.
Jimmy sliced open Simon Baldevar's chest and used the wide retractor to snap his ribs. Only through a severe effort was Jimmy able to suppress the nausea and fear he felt when he stared at the heart. The sword had gone through the center of his heart, leaving a gaping, ugly hole. To his horror, Jimmy saw the edges of the wound were beginning to blacken and rot. Jimmy might not be a doctor or that learned in vampire lore, but he instinctively knew that once that black, mottled crud covered his heart completely, Simon Baldevar would die.
Maggie barked another telepathic order and Jimmy held Simon's heart while Ellie looked on anxiously. Jimmy was sure Maggie would have preferred to ask her daughter to do this but she knew Ellie was liable to fall asleep at any moment, newly transformed as she was.
Jimmy wondered what Maggie had in mind to do next and watched her toss the empty transfusion pack to the side, placing both hands on Mikal's skinny chest. Jimmy noticed she never looked at her son Mikal, still aware, made no effort Jimmy could discern to reach her, convince her to save him. With a chill, Jimmy realized Mikal hated so much and so senselessly he'd rather die than ask one of these people he'd done his best to kill to help him.
Maggie inhaled and Jimmy saw a strange calmness settle over her eyes. There was something withdrawn but expectant about her as she focused her blank green eyes heavenward and lifted her hands up.
Her lips moved, forming words that made no sense to Jimmy though Ellie gasped and then quickly shut her mouth, apparently not wanting to disturb her mother.
At her arcane words, a luminous black light formed between Maggie's upturned palms and it was Jimmy's turn to gasp, now knowing exactly what Maggie meant to do. He'd seen her do it once before—that time she meant to save his life by destroying a vampire Simon Baldevar sent to kill him. Now she meant to use this dark magic to help Simon.
The black light grew denser and lengthened in her hands until it was almost too much for Maggie to contain. When it took on a rounded shape, Maggie lowered her hands, bringing them back to Mikal's chest.
Mikal's eyes blinked a few times, for the first time appearing uneasy as his mother brought her fathomless light to his skin and her slender hands, bathed within the dark light, disappeared inside his chest.
Jimmy saw Maggie's pale skin whiten until she appeared ghostlike, almost a figment of the imagination instead of a real being. Large beads of perspiration formed on her forehead and dripped into her eyes and Jimmy knew Maggie was risking her own life to perform this magic. Despite the blood she'd drunk, she simply wasn't strong enough for this kind of sorcery. Jimmy almost called out to her to stop but held back, remembering the awful despair in her eyes when she pleaded with him to help her. Jimmy thought Maggie might well prefer death to life without Simon ... or she might spend that life hopelessly insane if she failed tonight but didn't die with him.
Maggie's hands came out of Mikal's body, still bathed in black light and clutching his still beating heart.
Amazingly, Mikal was still alive, even as his helpless eyes focused on the heart that was no longer inside him. Now Maggie seemed to come out of her trance a litde and there was pity in her eyes when she met those of her son, a helpless, frustrated pity warring with pure hatred as they stared at each other before Mikal finally closed his eyes, no longer able to look at the mother he hadn't been able to kill or a world he'd never dominate.
Jimmy never saw Maggie move, but suddenly she was kneeling over Simon, holding his son's beating heart above his own. Maggie's fangs, a startling white against the darkness all around them, descended and she bit into Mikal's heart, the blood pouring into the gaping hole in Simon's heart.
As soon as the first drops of purplish, thick blood hit, Simon's heart began to beat again with a furious intensity that made Jimmy yank his hands away in surprise. Awed and a little fearful, he watched the viscous black rot eating at Lord Baldevar's heart vanish.
A strangled moan broke Jimmy's shock and he turned to stare at Maggie, covered completely in that strange light she'd conjured. It bathed her and made every hair stand on end, as though she were caught in an electrical storm, but she didn't take her blood
teeth out of Mikal's heart, determined that Simon should have every nourishing drop of blood even if the effort to give it to him killed her.
"Maggie," Jimmy said and grabbed her, determined to stop her before she destroyed herself but the black light she no longer controlled enveloped him the moment he touched her. Jimmy had the briefest sensation of an explosion roaring through him before he lost consciousness, not knowing if he, Maggie, or even Simon were going to live through this night.
Sixteen
White light, dazzling in its brilliance but so deadly . . . tried to pull away, knew the light meant death but there wasn't any pain, just warmth and an odd sense of renewal before exhaustion set in. Perhaps, Simon thought before he drifted off, this wonderful glow was the afterlife receiving him. But who would have ever thought a soul as dark as his would be welcomed so warmly ?
The warmth must have been a last, desperate fantasy of life for there was no gentle, cocooning sensation the next time Simon woke up. In place of the all-encompassing glow, he felt bitter cold lodged deep within his bones and a dull, heavy, inescapable ache in his chest.
But perhaps he was not dead, Simon thought, unless racking cold and relentless pain were the agonies of the hell he'd sold his soul to a thousand times over in the course of his immortality. No, he wasn't dead ... he was simply too uncomfortable to be dead.
But what force had saved him from death? Mikal was many things, but an inept swordsman he certainly was not . . . Simon remembered the icy feeling of steel cutting through his back and finding the center of his heart. A vampire could not recover if his heart was lacerated like that. Why was he still alive? There had been no mortal on the premises Meghann might pump for fresh blood to revive him . . .
Meghann! Simon strained mightily to open his eyes but the simple effort to part his eyelids was beyond him; it felt like they'd been sewn shut. Simon struggled to pull himself out of his stupor; he had to find out if Meghann was safe.
"Easy," a voice said softly and Simon felt a gentle pressure on his forearm. That light touch was the last bit of evidence he needed to convince him he wasn't dead . . . nowhere in hell could such a solicitous caress exist. "Don't strain yourself."
Simon thought he'd know that lilting voice anywhere. He forced his crusty, unwilling eyelids open and gazed into a pair of green eyes staring down at him with grave, loving concern.
"My love," he started to say but then his vision sharpened and the blurred paleness surrounding the emerald eyes gained definition, forming features too chiseled and sharp boned to be Meghann's. It was Elizabeth watching over him with eyes and a voice so like her mother's Simon mistook her for his consort.
Simon clamped down on the hand clutching his and croaked, "Meghann!" He was appalled when the urgent shout he'd intended came out as nothing more than the frail whisper of a very infirm or very elderly man. If he was left this weak after the encounter with Mikal, what possible chance was there that Meghann had survived? But if Meghann were dead, who had saved him and Elizabeth?
At her mother's name, Elizabeth looked uncertain and Simon felt his heart stop but then Elizabeth looked over her shoulder and screamed shrilly
, "Mom! Mom, come quick! Daddy's awake ... he wants you!"
The rushed footsteps began even before Elizabeth started to speak and Simon had the briefest impression of a red-and-white blur before warm lips started smothering him in kisses and Meghann yelped through her tears, "Simon, thank God! I thought I'd lost you ... I was so scared you'd never wake up!"
Some of Simon's strength returned at the sight of Meghann and he was able to draw her down to him, crushing her small, dear body against him while he anxiously took in the half moon circles beneath her eyes and her white, sickly skin. "You aren't well, little one."
"Neither are you," Meghann sniffled and Simon felt another pain in his chest at her teary, bloodshot eyes peering at him from hollowed sockets. How sick and frail his Meghann was; she needed blood desperately.
Meghann nodded at his thought, bemusing Simon when he realized how weak he was, that she could peer into his mind with such little effort. She turned to Elizabeth and said, "Your father's awake now so he doesn't need the stomach tube." Simon felt Meghann tear uncomfortable tubing out of his nose while she continued to address their daughter. "Can you go downstairs and get us a few pints of blood? We both need to feed."
"Simon," Meghann said after Elizabeth left, stroking his unshaven face tenderly, and Simon's arms tightened around her, tilting her chin so he could give her a deep, lingering kiss now that their daughter was no longer in the room.
For one delicious moment, Meghann melted against him before inexplicably stiffening and resisting his searching mouth. Simon allowed her to wriggle away and glare at him with an intriguing mix of love and reproach.
"You should have brought me to Mikal's, not Lee!" Meghann shouted. "I could have summoned Alcuin into me and you know it! If you'd left Lee here, we could have gone after Ellie together and Lee would still be alive..."
"And you and I would both be dead now," Simon broke in, grabbing Meghann's wrists and drawing her against him. "Lee Winslow died because he wasn't able to defend himself when Alcuin's spirit departed his body. Could you have recovered from such a shock, one moment possessed and the next standing in the midst of battle, or would you, too, have been easy fodder for Mikal's blade? And what makes you think I could continue fighting to save our daughter when I saw you dead before me? Had I brought you to fight our son, he could very well have managed to kill you, Elizabeth and myself. I was right to leave you behind."
"Oh no, you weren't!" Meghann replied heatedly, the inexorable logic of his words flying over her head, as usual. "If I meekly sat at home, you and Ellie would be dead. You're only alive because I arrived to fight Mikal."
"Partially true," Simon acknowledged, making Meghann relax slightly though she continued to glare at him. "I am alive because of some effort of ' yours. Tell me, little one, just how did you make a punctured heart beat again?"
Meghann flinched as though he'd insulted her instead of complimenting her, her eyes suddenly dark and troubled. Simon started to divine her thoughts but the effort gave him a severe headache. Before he could ask his consort what disturbed her so, Elizabeth came into the room with four transfusion packs he sniffed with distaste.
"What is that?"
Meghann took one of the packs, forcing the others into his unwilling hands and gave Elizabeth a grin that transformed her miserable expression. "Look at your father's scowl and remember one thing: Men never change. Even if they live four hundred years, they're still miserable cranks when they're sick."
"I am a miserable crank because I have no use for this swill?" Simon never drank from stored packs; he'd rather feed from a garbage can than force stale blood down his throat. "If you wish me to regain my strength, madam, I suggest you procure fresh blood."
Meghann's face colored angrily but Elizabeth quickly interceded between her parents. "We've all been drinking the packs, Daddy. No one wanted to leave the house while you were .. . ill."
While you were waiting to see if I lived or died, you mean, Simon thought and drank the vile tasting blood with no further argument. Of course Meghann wouldn't search for prey while he lay on his deathbed. Simon stroked her cheek, not sure if the sudden well being rushing through his veins came from contact with Meghann or the foul- tasting blood packs. But he wouldn't criticize Meghann any further about the poor meal; he was feeling better now and there was time enough later to seek out decent blood.
When he touched her, Simon felt the telepathic link between him and Meghann restored. Immediately he knew how his extraordinary consort saved his life and why she felt shame for her actions.
"You poured Mikal's heart's blood into me to close the wound?" In Meghann's thoughts, Simon saw the darkened hall, the spectral glow Meghann called forth to allow her to plunge her hands into their son's chest and pluck out his heart. There were hands cradling Simon's damaged heart while Meghann performed her magic, hands that kept him alive until the ritual was complete.
Simon smiled at his daughter, taking her hand while he kept his arm firmly wrapped around Meghann. "You helped your mother save me?"
"No," Elizabeth said, suddenly flushed and ill at ease. 'Jimmy held your heart, Daddy."
'Jimmy Delacroix?" It was not so unexpected that Meghann brought the creature with her to Mikal's. After all, Charles Tarleton was dead and Meghann was not such a fool that she'd charge into their son's lair without any kind of assistance. But Simon was curious to learn what kind of pressure Meghann put on Jimmy Delacroix that he'd help her save the vampire that transformed him against his will and made effort after effort to destroy him.
Meghann bit her lower lip, not meeting Simon's eyes when she said, "He saved Ellie, too. When we got to the house, Jimmy and I split up. I found you and he found Ellie and . . . transformed her. It was the only way to save her life."
Simon knew that. He well remembered finding his bleeding, ravaged daughter on the verge of death. Shock and grief dulled his reflexes at seeing her young, promising life shattered so viciously and with such little remorse. In his distraction, Mikal had been able to sneak up and stab his father in the back before he could transform Elizabeth.
Simon pulled his daughter closer, noting that the honey color of suntanned skin had faded away. Now she had a vampire's glowing paleness, though she wasn't milk white like Meghann, with her fragile, redhead's skin that had needed protection from the sun even before Simon transformed her. Instead, Elizabeth had his more opaque skin, ivory toned but without any hint of Meghann's translucency.
A nerve twitched in Simon's jaw when he remembered the bruised, suffering heap he'd found at Mikal's, his precious daughter battered within an inch of her life with her glorious hair hacked off her skull by a jealous mortal. Simon ran his hands over Elizabeth's healed face, finding no trace of scars from the abuse Mikal had heaped on her. Best of all, Simon saw no shadow of humiliation or remembered agony in her sparkling eyes.
Jimmy Delacroix had done a fine job of transforming Elizabeth, Simon reluctantly admitted to himself. He was surprised that Delacroix, whom he knew had no previous experience with transformation, kept Elizabeth's mind intact throughout the process. Perhaps the strong link he had with Elizabeth because he'd been close to her from infancy allowed the amateur vampire to cling to Elizabeth's soul and keep her safe.
"Do you remember your time at Mikal's?" Simon demanded, breathing a sigh of relief when Elizabeth shook her head. So he'd at least been successful in wiping Elizabeth's memory clean before Mikal attacked him.
"The only thing I remember is waking up and being . . . you know," Elizabeth said, speaking of vampirism with her mother's diffident tones. "Then, Jimmy and I went looking for you and Mom."
"Elizabeth," Simon said firmly, "You must not be ashamed of your immortality. That you take blood from mortals is no sin; it is simply a matter of survival."
"I know," Elizabeth said but Simon saw the discomfort in her expression. "It's just... new."
Simon decided not to press. There was time enough later for him to tutor Elizabeth in her new life. Instead of lectur
ing, he smiled at both the women in his life and said genially, "Where is Jimmy Delacroix? I must offer him my thanks for his aid." He had no further grudge with Jimmy Delacroix, not if the man had saved his life, as well as his daughter's.
Simon thought his words would make Elizabeth and Meghann happy but a long, indecipherable look passed between them and then Elizabeth said haltingly, "Daddy, when Mom put that. . . Mikal's . . . blood ... in your heart, something happened. It was almost like an explosion. Mom fell over you and Jimmy flew away from your body like he'd gotten an electric shock. After that, they were both unconscious until sunset the next evening."
Of course they were. Simon gave his consort a level stare, wondering if her reckless impulsivity came about because she'd been so young when he transformed her. Immortal almost a hundred years and there was still nothing sedate or careful about Meghann O'Neill. That she had a great gift for magic Simon never denied but she never approached the Arts with the proper caution. Simon had been enraged when he found out that Alcuin tutored his consort in sorcery—putting such dangerous knowledge in the hands of a thoughtless child! Meghann rushed into spells and summoning with no thought for consequence—many times her actions landed her in situations she couldn't control. Though Simon was, of course, thankful that Meghann saved his life, he knew she had no appreciation for how potent the force she'd conjured was, that she risked her life, as well as the lives of Elizabeth and Jimmy Delacroix to save him.
Well, no more, Simon vowed silently and tightened his grip on Meghann until she felt almost an extension of him. Now that he was restored and there was no secret son keeping him from her side, Simon would watch her carefully, make sure Meghann performed no dark rituals that put her in peril.
"You were all... out of it. So I carried everyone to Mom's car and drove like hell to get us to Southampton before sunrise," Elizabeth continued, giving her parents a smile of shy pride. "I just made it. . . the sun was peeking over the ocean when I shut the door and sealed the shutters with everyone safe inside."
