It was better to leave now, before they became any closer.
"I can't stay.” Laurel met Sara's eyes with regret and apology. Squeezing her hand, she let go and turned away for the stairs.
Sara doggedly followed, frowning. "Can't stay in the parlor-- or in the house?"
"In the house. I can't stay here," Laurel repeated, ascending to the upper floor. "It was my choice. I have no one to blame but myself."
"What did Sebastian say when you told him all that?" Sara asked.
"He asked me if I was going to leave without taking time to consider it and a few other things. I don't know." Laurel put a palm over her forehead. Tears stung the back of her eyes. She opened the door to her bedroom and stepped in.
"And are you? Going to just leave?" Sara asked. "Where will you go? Just slow down for a minute, Laurel. You're panicki--"
"Yes, I am panicking!" She glanced back at Sara, gesturing helplessly with her hands, before disappearing into her closet for a suitcase. Coming out with it already unzipped, she plopped it on the bed and started dragging clothes from a drawer. "I mean, this night has been incredible. I had no idea things like this even existed, and then come to find out he's one of them."
She took the clothes she'd just 'packed' and put them back in her drawer. A moment later, she repacked the same articles, barely paying attention to what she was doing.
"Does the truth really scare you so much? He's the same man." Sara watched her move between the bed and the dresser, an odd, poignant note in her voice.
With a handful of lacy bras in her hand, she paused and met Sara's eyes.
"…Yeah, it does scare me a little bit. I'm sorry if my world just got flipped upside down. I'm from Kansas, Sara, where the biggest decisions I had growing up were what watering hole to go swimming in and what to wear to the local barn dance."
"But you're not in Kansas anymore, Laurel. You wanted something more exciting, yes?" Sara gestured around them as if to say, what could be more exciting than this? "I know it's scary. Believe me, I do. He's not just 'one of them', either. He's a Prince."
Laurel might have laughed at the Kansas reference if she hadn't been so distraught. "He's a Duke. That was just a joke between us, the prince thing. You know, like he's my prince charming and all that."
"He is a Duke. He's a Prince, too. Prince of the vampires," Sara explained, settling down on the edge of the bed.
Shoving the bras into the drawer when they were supposed to go in the suitcase, Laurel paused again to take stock. Prince of vampires.
"Fabulous," Laurel said. "How did he get to be Prince? I didn't realize there were ranks."
"His maker was a Prince, and his maker's maker was a Prince. Isabella, as well. It runs in the family. Sebastian is very powerful, so he stepped in when the old Prince of Europe got killed. No one wanted to challenge him for it."
Powerful. Laurel had no doubt about that. She closed the drawer, distracted, and leaned against the edge of the dresser. "So that's why he goes to Madrid all the time. What did you do when you found out-- or are you one of them?" Laurel eyed Sara, digesting the news that Isabella was one of them, too. Were they all vampires? Maybe this was their lair. Did vampires even have lairs? She watched a haunted look pass in and out of Sara's eyes and wondered what caused it.
"I'm not a vampire. I am still among the living,” Sara said. “I did not immediately know what William was, either. When I found out, I was already in love with him. He could have done any number of things to me when I was still unaware, and he did not. It helped to know that. And when he bit me …” Sara cleared her throat.
"He bit you? Doesn't that make you one of them?" Laurel asked, dubious. She was under an information overload, desperate to process each new thing as it came.
“No, it takes more than that. I used to ingest his blood, which prevented me from aging. Since his death, Sebastian provides me with blood – but not his own.”
"That's disgusting." Laurel shoved the image of blood drinking from her mind and tried to pretend she didn't have an electric twinge of jealousy when she thought, for just a moment, that Sara had been taking Sebastian's.
"I used to think so, too. It's called the dark kiss, their bite, and it is… very exciting. People have been known to grow addicted to it," Sara said. She glanced down at her hands where they clasped together on her lap.
"What's good about it? Aren't they stabbing fangs or…things into some soft part of your body?" Laurel thought it sounded painful. It was difficult to hear some of the details.
Sara looked pensive. "They can make it as painful or as pleasurable as they desire. It feels like needles at first, a little sting, but then? Pleasure. And when they do it while you are making love...?” She seemed to think she was saying too much, and let the rest trail.
"Sara…"
"It's true,” Sara said with a subtle smile. "To them, the act of drinking blood is like making love. Their bodies get hotter, harder…bigger. They take the blood and you can feel it everywhere, like a tug on your soul. It's… arousing." She patted the bed, inviting Laurel to come relax. Confidants.
Laurel couldn't imagine that being pierced with needle sharp anything would feel good and remained doubtful. At the same time, the thought of Sebastian feeling so intimate with another woman when he sucked their blood disturbed her. She crossed the room and flopped down beside Sara, staring up at the ceiling.
"I'm in love with him," she confessed.
"Even knowing what he is?" Sara asked, after a slight hesitation.
"Yes. I can't turn it on and off like a faucet, you know?" Laurel turned her head to the side. She caught a brief, intent look on Sara's face that she couldn't decipher. "Sebastian said he wouldn't stay here if I couldn't abide being near him. I don't think he'll come back as long as I'm under his roof and it's too painful to stay. Everything here reminds me of him and I can't keep him from his own house." After a moment, despite herself, she asked, "Is it dangerous, being the Prince of a city?"
Sara untangled her hands and braced them behind her, settling back. "That's how he got hurt. He found out a group of vampires were running a slave ring and he went to break it up.”
"He's so…diplomatic most of the time, but I have no doubt that he can take care of himself."
"Sebastian doesn't allow stuff like that in his city. And ...” Sara paused as though she was having trouble getting the words out. “If he wants you to stay, you should. He wouldn't have told you all this if he didn't care.”
Sitting up with a feminine grunt, Laurel folded her legs beneath her. Sara did the same so that they faced each other. "I know. I'm just worried about things. Like…well he won't age and I will--"
"You don't have to," Sara said with a pointed arch of her brow.
Laurel shuddered at the thought of ingesting blood and frowned. She knew what Sara was getting at. "There's no way I would do that."
"It is something to consider. You don't have to age. It only takes a little bit," Sara replied. "And the dark kiss, if you let him do that, it creates a bond. You belong to them. A bond of blood."
"You seem to like this life pretty well." Laurel didn't think she'd ever be as comfortable as Sara about the whole vampire thing.
"Well, they cannot have children. This life doesn't come with a white picket fence, but there are other benefits. Oh," Sara said, voice turning serious. "You realize you can't say anything to anyone, hm? If humans knew, they might be hunted."
Laurel glanced down at her hands. She loved children and had always imagined she would someday have one. Maybe two. The knowledge that Sebastian couldn't ever have any disconcerted her, if only because it saddened her to think of the love and affection he would miss that only children could bring. It wasn't enough by itself to keep her from being with him.
"I won't say anything to anyone," Laurel said. "I wouldn't endanger him like that."
"Good. What did he tell you about his title as Duke?”
“He showed me more than anything. Jousts and armor and a little of
life at court. It was so vivid. I could hear the trumpets and the hoofbeats and the clash of their lances. It's almost impossible to believe he actually lived through that time.” Laurel hugged her knees to her chest, images flashing through her mind. Like snapshots, gritty and realistic.
“It sounds like he wanted to share a piece of his past with you,” Sara said.
“I think so. And it is interesting. I just...” She paused and smiled, a little woe-begone at the entire ordeal. “I wonder what he was like back then, before—all this.”
“Probably much the same man. Just more experienced with a different view of the world. He has seen a lot of incredible things in his time.” Sara reached over to give Laurel's arm an understanding pat. “Would you like to go down and get something to eat?"
Aware that Sara had successfully sidelined her from leaving, she smiled, a rueful little thing, and climbed off the bed. She tried to conjure some kind of appetite while she followed her into the hallway.
Swallowed by darkness in the room across the hall, listening to the details of the fallout, a plan began to take shape in Caleb's mind. The idea sprouted when he heard Laurel talk about the past.
Sebastian's past.
Just how far would the Prince go to please the mortal woman?
If he pressed the suggestion to Laurel, compelled her to mention traveling back in time to Sebastian, would he do it? The thought was tantalizing in the extreme. Instead of an epic, bloody war between vampires, Sebastian might be dethroned and his territory put up for grabs. There would still be battles, but not on the scale of an all out, unexpected coup d'état.
If Sebastian departed this time, Caleb would present it to the Council as a break in one of the covenants-- leaving a territory unprotected. With Luceph's backing, the odds of the Council allowing him to vie for Europe increased exponentially. Combined with Sebastian's mortal dalliances, Caleb didn't think the Prince stood a chance of keeping his reign. Between he and Luceph, they were compiling quite a list of 'charges' against Sebastian.
When the girls exited into the hallway, Caleb decided to act. Waiting until they'd passed his room, he opened the door and stepped out behind them.
“Laurel, I wondered if I could speak with you a moment?” he asked, giving both women a disarming smile as they glanced back.
Sara didn't balk or even hesitate. It wasn't her place and she knew it. She touched Laurel's arm and continued on toward the stairs and the dining room below.
Laurel looked perplexed, but waited just the same. “Sure, Caleb.”
He strolled up to her, extending his senses through the hallway and the closest rooms to assure himself no one else was around. Witnesses were out of the question. Locking his gaze with hers, he exerted his will and spoke in a low, mesmerizing tone.
“You will stand here and listen to what I have to say.”
A small frown flickered across Laurel's brow even as she nodded. “Okay.”
“Sometime within the next few days, you will suggest to Sebastian that both of you should visit his past. You would love to see Sebastian's homeland, in an era when he was mortal. You're very curious about the court and the history that brought him to present day. You want to see him in armor, at a joust. It will happen as a naturally occurring thought, because it's something you've wondered already. Do you understand?” Caleb spun out the command with smooth control, compelling her to believe and accept it.
She blinked a few times while she processed the information, and answered in a somewhat monotone voice. “Yes, I will suggest we travel back in time.”
“Good girl. Do not mention my name.”
She nodded.
Caleb broke the link between them and straightened. After a moment, he gave her shoulder a gentle shake, as if she'd just been dazing in the hallway.
“Laurel? You were staring off, daydreaming. I just wanted to say hello.” He smiled and watched her eyes for any telltale flickers that something had gone wrong with the encounter.
She twitched out of the daze and glanced up at his eyes. Hers were clear now instead of glassy and distant. “Oh, I... well I guess I just got distracted. Hello, Caleb.”
“Sara's waiting for you downstairs. I'll see you later.”
“Sure. See you,” she said, turning away with a slight frown for the stairs.
Caleb watched her until she disappeared. Soon, soon his plans and hard work would come to fruition.
Chapter Nine
"Laurel?"
Her name roused her from a deep sleep. She rolled over and sat up, rubbing at an eyelid with the heel of her hand. Disoriented, wondering why her stomach hurt, she glanced at the doorway. It all came rushing back when she saw Sebastian standing there, watching her. He looked guarded, almost wary. Despite the turmoil, relief flooded through her to see him.
"Bernard gave me your note," he said, holding it up.
"Oh, yes." Earlier, after pushing food around a plate for an hour, she'd given up and gone to write him a note. Asking him to find her later when—if--he returned. She ineffectually pushed at her hair and scrambled out of bed. "I wanted to speak with you, if you have time? Please?"
"Of course," he said, folding the note and tucking it back into the pocket of his pristine suit.
Armani armor. He wore it well.
"I'm sorry. I meant to be waiting downstairs long before now. Will you give me five minutes to change?" She knew she looked like a rumpled mess and it wasn't the way she wanted to engage into such serious conversation with him.
He inclined his head. "I'll meet you downstairs in the parlor when you're ready." With an unreadable expression, Sebastian turned on a heel and departed.
Laurel stared at the doorway but didn't linger to wonder over his quick exit. She changed into a pair of dove gray, chenille drawstring pants and a pale yellow shirt. Sweeping up her hair, she secured it into a loose knot. Not a startling improvement, but enough to make her feel presentable. Barefoot, she hurried from her room and down the broad stairs, entering the parlor to find Sebastian standing near the fireplace, a glass of scotch in his hand. Billie Holiday played on the stereo in the background and a fire lapped against the grate.
He glanced over, expression neutral, bordering on cool. Hard to read. "Would you like a drink?" he asked.
"No thank you," she said, moving deeper into the room. Pausing by one of the chairs, she wondered over his mood. After her talk with Sara, Laurel had thought long and hard about everything. About leaving. Life without him. Life with him, and what all that entailed. He looked so good standing there in his suit, polished and groomed. A familiar stir of heat crawled through her blood. It was almost impossible for her to think of him as anything else but what she saw right in front of her eyes.
He drew her like the proverbial moth to a flame. It was more than his looks and the kindness he'd always shown her.
Deeper.
A bond they'd already created.
She closed the distance with a few cautious steps. Standing in front of him, she cupped her hands on either side of his jaw. "Forgive me, Sebastian."
"There is nothing to forgive," he said, lifting a hand to curl his fingers around her wrist. He strummed his thumb across her pulse.
Laurel couldn't read him. She couldn't decipher the gleam in his eyes, couldn't tell if he was wary or regretful or glad to see her. "I could have handled it with more grace. For all that you've done for me, Sebastian, I should have not allowed myself to get so upset. But when you disappeared like that, it felt like there was an enormous black hole inside me. Empty. No matter what else, I don't want to live like that. I need you. Please tell me it's not too late."
"You handled it well, considering," he said, releasing her wrist to brush a piece of hair that had escaped its confines away from her throat. He set the tumbler down on the table. "Nothing is carved in stone, Laurel. Let's take it slow and see how you feel."
"I know how I feel," she whispered, sliding her hands from his face to the back of his neck. "About you, I mean. The
rest will come. Sara tried to help me understand." It was a lot to adjust to in a short amount of time.
He looped an arm low around her hips and for the first time in hours, Laurel felt some of the tension ease. She studied his face, drawing comfort from their closeness.
Sebastian rubbed her back with his hand and rested his cheek on her hair. Drawing back, he sought her eyes. "I can only imagine the things Sara told you. But if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me." With his other hand, he cupped the back of her head, cradling her.
Laurel rubbed her head into his palm, enjoying the feel of it there. "Sara was very informative. And I do have a lot of questions. I want to know you. But it's a good suggestion to go slow. We're together, and that's the most important thing right now."
He leaned in to graze a kiss against her brow. With a touch of humor in his voice, he said, "I expected you would want to know more, eventually.”
When he drew back, Laurel rose on her tiptoes to press a shallow kiss against his mouth. He tasted the same, felt the same. Nothing was different now that she knew. Well…things were different, but his kisses remained familiar and scintillating. She wasn't sure what she'd expected to find and pushed the word dead from her mind.
It pleased her that she detected no hesitation in him, no tension over the affection. "Do you grow whiskers, or is your skin always smooth?"
He smiled into her eyes. "My skin is smooth because it was smooth when I was turned. I could force them to grow," he said, arching a brow like he wondered whether she would enjoy it.
"But not smooth everywhere," she said, thinking of the trail of hair from his chest to his navel. She trailed one finger down his throat, over his suit and along his abdomen to indicate. "I like your face like this, though." She cocked her head. "I'm trying to picture you as Rugged Sebastian," she said, like he was a doll with different versions. Rugged Sebastian. Suited Sebastian.
He laughed and the sound sent a thrill down her spine. For a few hours, she'd doubted whether she would ever hear it again.
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