by Trisha Baker
The intensity in Simon's eyes seemed to pierce through her. "If you wish to discuss the past, I'm going to insist that you be truthful."
"I'm always honest!"
"Then tell me what happened after I bled Pauline to death before your eyes."
Startled, she said, "Nothing… I mean, you transformed me; that's all."
Simon used her hands to yank her closer. Then he tilted her head up so she was looking into his sardonic gaze. "Perhaps you can convince your priest of that. Have you forgotten that I gave you one final chance to choose death? And what did you do, Meghann? I can still remember, even if you choose to forget. You chose me, Meghann. The choice for you had nothing to do with life or death—you put your sweet hand on my face and I will never forget what you thought: 'I want him, nothing else matters.' " Simon gave her his Cheshire cat grin. "After seeing me for what I truly was, you still wanted to be with me. What a rare and perfect gift you gave me that night. You did not want power, as all the others did, or even immortality—you wanted me. And that is why I transformed you, because you gave yourself to me wholeheartedly—or I would never have done it."
"No!" she cried, embarrassed by returning memories. "You… you manipulated me. How could I possibly think straight when you had nearly bled me to death? Maybe, maybe I did want you for that one moment, but I never would have if I had known what you were going to make me do… killing people and wallowing in darkness."
Simon still had a firm hold on her, and he pulled her very close. "What I made you do? Was I at the hospital the night you made that addict kneel before you?"
Seeing how completely he caught her off guard, Simon smiled unkindly at her shock. "Oh, yes, I know all about it. You sank your pretty little teeth right into him, and savored his pain. He died, by the way."
She bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she whispered—unsure whom she was addressing. Alcuin? Her victim? Herself?
"Meghann, why are you engaging in this useless struggle? You are my consort. It is my blood that flows in your veins—not the simpering cleric's. You will never be free of the desires I bestowed upon you." Simon's eyes glowed. "Have you forgotten how good it felt, sweet? How you rejoiced in the taste of your own fiancé's blood—"
"You stop throwing that in my face, you bastard!" she howled. "How dare you make it sound like I sought him out. You brought him to me, you vicious—"
"I brought him to teach you that there is no connection between vampires and mortals outside of a need to feed, a lesson you continue to disdain. Why do you think I never taught you anything, kept you cloistered and sheltered? Every time I showed you the smallest bit of power, you shrank from it. The blood feast in Cuba, do you know how much power I derived from the pain in that room? Then I gave you the chance to partake in the sweetest of all pleasures, the blood of a child… But no, you foolishly cling to a code of ethics that forever bar you from realizing the true power of a vampire."
"That is not power," she hissed. "It's madness and depravity, the indulgences of beasts like yourself who have no decency inside their rotting souls. You're right, Simon. I want no part of that… or you."
"I've had enough of this foolish quarreling, Meghann. It is time for you to assume your rightful place… by my side."
"No!" She twisted and screamed when he tried to kiss her. Then she felt a change in the atmosphere—something peaceful.
Simon felt it too; he let her go. "I see my beloved uncle has come to join us."
Alcuin stood silently—comparing Simon's calm, unruffled visage to the anxiety and fear on Meghann's face.
I want to go home, she told him silently.
Alcuin stretched his hand out, and she ran to it gladly. "I'll take you home, banrion. You need not stay here."
"Meghann isn't going anywhere," Simon said softly. "Leave her to me, and I'll spare your worthless life. I'll even overlook the insult you dealt by taking my consort from me."
"I would not leave a dog in your care," Alcuin replied. "Meghann left you, nephew, and I offered her sanctuary; I would do it again. I will certainly help her leave your vile presence."
"She will never leave my side again. And I'll even give her a final chance to make that decision herself. Tell him, Meghann—say you choose to remain by your master's side."
Meghann was dismayed by the capacity for malevolence she saw in those tawny eyes; still, she raised her head high. "I choose to live a free life—away from you."
Two things happened at once. Alcuin tried to grab her so they could leave and she felt herself fly backward into Simon's grip. He pushed her hair back. Before Alcuin could stop him, Simon pushed his fangs deep into Meghann's neck.
Simon didn't merely bite her; he ripped her neck open. Blood spouted everywhere. Meghann had forgotten the terrible, invasive pain of being bitten, but it was nothing compared to the agony she felt when he started sucking on the wound.
She could not say how long he drank from her before Alcuin managed to pull him off. Alcuin grabbed Meghann by the hair and flung her from Simon. She landed knee-deep in the ocean.
Vaguely she heard Alcuin say, "Leave here at once and let me save Meghann. I'll call off the hunt for you."
"No, Uncle—it is time for us to end our conflict."
Meghann heard the sounds of fighting, but she couldn't concentrate anymore. She was being assaulted by waves of nausea. She started retching. Oh, God—Renee's heart's blood was coming up. Meghann had never tasted anything so awful in her life, and she kept vomiting. She thought her ribs were going to crack from the force of it. When it finally ended, Meghann started drinking the salt water of the ocean. She had to get that taste out of her mouth. A huge wave crashed over Meghann and she was dragged farther from the shore.
Am I going to drown or bleed to death? Meghann wondered. She forced herself to swim, and thought for once about how fortunate it was that she was a vampire. If she were human, she'd be dead now—Simon had nearly decapitated her. She could feel the skin trying to come back together. Meghann put her hand to her neck—she was still bleeding, but not as much.
When she got to the shore, she managed to stay upright in a kneeling position. Meghann used her senses to try to find Alcuin and Simon—they'd both disappeared.
She jumped when she felt a hand on the gash on her neck.
"Don't worry, banrion—it's me."
Meghann turned to look at Alcuin. His cloak was gone and his left arm was broken. But the worst wound was a ragged hole in his chest three inches above his heart. Simon must have used the driftwood I used on Renee, Meghann thought.
"Simon put a stake through you?"
"He tried," Alcuin replied. "Fortunately for me, his aim was off. But I am unimportant… You must leave here at once. Simon truly loves you, banrion. And your rejection is driving him to the brink of madness. Get away from him at once! Can you fly, Meghann?"
Meghann tried. She was able to disappear for a split second before she reappeared—sweating and panting. "I can't," she gasped.
Alcuin sighed heavily. "I was afraid of that. Meghann, I'm going to die tonight."
"No," she cried.
"Banrion, I've known it since Jimmy staggered back to your house. Simon cannot be killed—not tonight, and not by me. That is why I would not allow Charles to come here with me. I only came here tonight in the hopes of saving you."
"Then you shouldn't have come." She wept deeply. "I don't understand. Why—"
"God only knows what he has been up to these past forty years—but he now has a power that is unholy. I know you felt it too. As if that were not enough, Simon is possessed by two ferocious forces—the desire to have you, and an unimaginable hatred of me. They are giving him a strength I cannot cope with." Alcuin put his wrist to her mouth. "Drink, banrion. Take what little strength I have and use it to fly away from this cursed spot before he attacks again." Alcuin overrode her protests. "I am ordering you as your mentor to do this! I'm going to die and I will not let that fiend have your life too." Alcuin hugged her close—she knew
the gesture meant farewell. "You and Charles must continue to battle Simon after I am gone. Do what I was unable to accomplish, Meghann… slay that bastard and end his obscene existence."
Meghann's blood teeth hadn't even come out fully when Simon reappeared. Unlike Alcuin, he was barely injured. He grabbed Alcuin before she could drink, and they spun away from Meghann, struggling.
Simon kicked Alcuin, and he sprawled on the ground. Simon withdrew a small but vicious ax from Renee's satchel.
I don't care what Alcuin told me; maybe I can help him. I won't stand here helplessly and watch him die.
Meghann aimed several rocks at Simon. Her aim was on target—one hit him on the wrist and he dropped the ax. Meghann tried to make the ax fly to her, and it did start to go toward her, but then it halted in midair. Simon grabbed it.
Still, Alcuin's arm had enough time to heal and he lunged at Simon, trying to wrestle the ax away from him. He managed to grab the ax, and when he moved his hand, Simon fell to the ground. He brandished the ax in the air, poised to cut off Simon's head.
Simon glanced at Meghann and she felt an evil presence enter her. There was no other way to describe it—she felt like something malevolent was inside her. Blood started pouring out of her nose and ears. At the same time, she felt something warmer try to enter her and the hemorrhaging stopped. Then it started again—
Meghann was caught in a tug-of-war between the two master vampires.
"Malus Ultor!" She heard Alcuin curse Simon through the haze taking her over. "Let her live."
"Perhaps I shall." She heard Alcuin cry out in pain. "But you should really keep your mind on your own troubles. Come, Uncle, at least try to fight. Otherwise, I won't be able to enjoy my victory… Who wants a worthless opponent?" More screams.
I'm sorry, Alcuin, she tried to say. I'm sorry I couldn't help you.
When Meghann woke up again, the sky was lighter. Were Simon and Alcuin still fighting? Then Meghann smelled smoke and the unmistakable odor of burning flesh. She turned slightly and saw a body burning on the rocks. Who was it?
"You should be grateful it isn't you."
Oh, God—Simon had won. Over the smell of searing flesh, Meghann detected something fresher—her own blood. Meghann pulled her hands close to her face—both wrists had been cut open, and her neck was in agony. Simon must have fed from that hideous gash in her neck.
Meghann knew she should be upset, terrified—but all she felt was a curious sense of peace. Maybe that means I'm dying, she thought.
Her vision was blurry. It wasn't until Simon was standing right in front of her that Meghann was able to make out his features. What was he shoving before her eyes? No, no—it was Alcuin's severed head. Meghann didn't even know she was crying until she tasted the salty tears on her lips.
"The ancient Celts had a tradition of nailing the heads of their enemies to their doors," Simon told her. "While I consider that a bit much, I do think I should find a special place for this treasure. Perhaps my mantelpiece?"
Meghann couldn't respond. Simon went on chatting while he drank blood from a vein in her left thigh after his blood teeth punctured the denim fabric of her jeans.
"I remember the first time I drank blood from you, my love. I'd never tasted blood like yours—fresh, sweet, bursting with life and vitality. If I hadn't already been in love with you, the taste of your blood would have done the trick.
"You're on the brink of death—but I'm merciful. I won't leave you here, exposed to the sunrise—which is only about an hour away. I'll let you share the fate of your good friend," Simon told her cheerfully. She heard him pick up the ax.
Meghann was too sick to feel any fear. The ax was poised above her, and she thought incoherently, Look how pretty the blade looks with the moonlight shining on it.
Meghann came back to life at the fresh agony she felt from the wound in her neck when Simon started strangling her.
"Damn you, Meghann!" Simon yelled as he choked her. "In four hundred years, I've never had difficulty killing anyone—except you! Why won't you admit you love me? Why?"
Meghann thought he was doing a fairly good job of killing her since she couldn't breathe and his voice was ringing in her ears. But then he let her go. Before she could react, he put his hand in her hair and brought her mouth to his neck.
Meghann was so starved for blood she started drinking the second her lips touched his flesh. She had never needed blood so badly. I don't want to die, Meghann thought—the same way she had all those years before when Simon had transformed her. The blood was healing her—her vision was clearing and she was becoming more lucid. But drinking Simon's blood was sharpening the link between them—Meghann tried to fight the closeness she was feeling toward him.
Abruptly Simon pushed her away.
For long moments, they simply stared at each other. He can't kill me, Meghann thought in wonder. Certainly, he should have. From his point of view, it was a perfect victory—killing her after he made her witness the death of her chosen mentor. But he had not been able to behead her. That did not make Meghann feel any less anxious. Even if he couldn't kill her, he didn't seem to have any problem with hurting her. So what would he do if she continued to defy him?
He reached out to caress her face, and she backed away. Ruthlessly he grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her.
"Stop struggling!" Simon roared. Meghann thought her eardrums would have burst if she'd been human. She had never seen Simon like this—no matter if he was angry or engaged in blood lust, he was never out of control. Alcuin had been right about how dangerous love could make Simon.
"Why are you resisting me?" He was yelling.
A plan to defeat Simon flashed through her mind. Meghann knew a direct assault would have no chance, but she thought she might be able to trick Simon. The only trouble was going to be in becoming involved with him again—Simon might not wind up being the one who got fooled.
"Stop… stop shaking me! Why shouldn't I re-resist you?"
Before she could continue, Simon let go of her. Meghann nearly crashed into Alcuin's burning corpse.
"Why shouldn't you resist me?" he repeated incredulously. "I gave you life!"
"You took my life!" she caterwauled, keeping a wary eye on the brightening sky. "You're not God, you egomaniac! You didn't give me life—you stole my life and condemned me to a living hell!" Meghann was threading a very fine line. If she gave in too quickly, Simon would never believe her. On the other hand, if she pushed him too far, there was no telling what he might do.
Simon circled around her and viciously prodded Alcuin's body with a long stick. Sparks flew all around. "This simpering cleric has warped your view of immortality. How can you call the gift I gave you 'hell'? You'll live forever—and you have eternal youth."
Meghann yanked the stick from him. "You've already murdered a saint," she hissed. "Do you have to compound your crime by desecrating his body? Now back away—I am going to pray for him." She glared at Simon, silently daring him to stop her, but he stood back and watched.
Meghann bowed her head and prayed for the soul of her deceased mentor. She said the prayer for the deceased she had been taught as a child by the nuns—Alcuin had been a bishop; she thought he would appreciate a Catholic prayer.
"Almighty Father," she began, "eternal God, hear my prayers for your son, Alcuin, whom you have called from this life to yourself. Grant him light, happiness, and peace. Let him pass in safety through the gates of death, and live forever with all your saints in the light you promised to Abraham and to all his descendants in faith. Guard him from all harm, and on that great day of resurrection and reward, raise him up with all your saints. Pardon his sins and give him eternal life in your kingdom. We ask this through Christ our Lord—Amen."
She removed the Celtic cross from her waist, kissed it, and threw it on the pyre. "Rest in peace, my friend."
Meghann cried out—she felt more pain. It was in her bones—almost like a deep itch that would turn into agony later
on.
"It's the sunrise," Simon told her. "Better finish the last rites—unless you want them performed over your own body." She had never been outside with Simon this close to dawn. Some of his magic was gone—he was entirely too pale, almost ghoulish-looking. Where is my handsome lover? she thought mockingly. Not that she looked any better. Our time is done. What is a vampire? Invincible at night, and then the sun renders us powerless. Now people can rise, live, and love while we scurry from the sun.
"For God's sake, child. Why lament the sun anyway? Or do you want all that goes with it—senility, a broken wreck of a body, perhaps a miserable end in a nursing home?"
The sky turned rose, and Meghann screamed. Simon staggered over to Meghann—the coming of the dawn was crippling him too.
Without a word, he grabbed her and she felt the wind pick up as it always had when she traveled with him. The sun started to appear above the horizon at the same moment they disappeared.
* * *
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
« ^ »
May 1, 1998—Beltane
Meghann watched the sun set over the ocean—it was beautiful; the dying light on the water, and the sky turning dark rose and then purple.
"I'm sorry I'm late." Meghann turned around and thought she was staring at her mirror image—until she saw the violet eyes.
"Isabelle?" she whispered. It had to be Isabelle, and she looked absolutely radiant. The sadness was gone from her eyes—in its place was a shining peace and happiness. Her beautiful hair had gold ribbons and pearls braided through it, and she was wearing a stunning gold lace gown. Without being told, Meghann knew it was the dress she wore when she married Roger.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, Meghann. I've wanted to help you for so long. You call me if you ever need me." Isabelle faded away as Meghann shouted, "No, wait! Please don't leave. I have so much to ask—"
"Another time, banrion." Meghann saw a man wearing the black robes of a priest at her side now. He was very plain, with thinning brown hair, but his eyes…
