Bound By Sin (A Cin Craven Novel)
Page 5
“Archie,” I said softly. “It’s a hard thing you ask of him.”
Archie closed his eyes. “I know. He’s a good son.”
He was quiet for a few moments and I thought he had drifted off to sleep. I was about to tuck his hand under the covers and let him rest, when he suddenly squeezed my fingers with a strength I hadn’t thought he possessed. My gaze flew to his dark eyes, watching me intently.
“Would you do it for me?” he asked.
“Kill you?”
“Cin, between old age and this disease I hardly remember a time when I wasn’t in pain. Please,” he begged. “Please make it stop.”
I sat there, trying furiously to think of a good reason for denying his request, but I couldn’t. It was obvious he was in excruciating pain and his own son would have given him the poison, if he’d been able to bring himself to do it. No child should have to make that choice. But I could. I owed Archie that.
Finally, I said, “Tell me what to mix for the poison and I’ll do it.”
“Cin!” Justine snapped at me, but I silenced her with a wave of my hand.
“No,” Archie said weakly. “Not the poison. Kill me as a vampire would.”
“Archie, even in your weakened condition, I couldn’t drink enough from you in one feeding to kill you,” I explained.
He glanced at Justine. “You could if you both did it.”
“Non, I will not be a party to this,” Justine hissed.
I ignored her. “It might be enough. But I can’t guarantee it, Archie.”
He closed his eyes. “In all my life I’ve never felt more alive than I did that one time I fed you, Justine. I would like to feel that once more, before I die.”
I glanced at Justine, who was looking tenderly down at Archie. But when she turned her eyes to me they were as hard as blue diamonds. I stood and grabbed her hand.
“Give us a few moments,” I said to Archie, and pulled her from the room.
CHAPTER 13
“You cannot be serious,” she said as I closed the bedroom door.
“Serious about what?” John asked, confused.
“She wants us to kill your father,” Justine snapped.
I sighed. “John, why don’t you go in and talk to him. I need to speak with Justine alone.”
John looked slightly confused and more than a little alarmed, but he did as I asked. And the minute the door closed behind him Justine started her tirade again.
“It’s forbidden to kill humans,” she said. “You know that. We execute the monsters who do such things, who break our laws. Or have you forgotten?”
I winced at the comment. Justine and I were as close as sisters, but there had been several times since I became a vampire that she’d looked at me as though I were a monster. But, as Michael always reminded me, we had all made it through those times alive because of the things I’d done. I considered pointing that out to her, but I let it pass.
“I’ve not forgotten,” I said calmly. “I’ve also not forgotten that it was you who said that mercy was the quality that separated us from the monsters. Is that not what this is, Justine? Mercy?”
She opened her mouth but, having no good answer, snapped it shut again and glared at me.
“Justine, you are the Devil’s Justice. I know no one else who has the compassion and empathy that you have. Where are those qualities now? We’re not talking about murdering some innocent human. We’re talking about ending the suffering of a friend. Don’t forget that he freely gave you his blood when you were injured.”
She looked away, unable to meet my gaze. “I have not forgotten.”
“Archie did whatever we needed him to do, to the point of putting his own life in jeopardy, and he never asked anything of us in return. Justine, he’s asking now.”
She was quiet for a moment, then she sighed heavily and turned back to me. “I will take his blood,” she said. “But I cannot take his life. If you must do this thing, Cin, you will have to drink last.”
I nodded. “I wouldn’t have asked you to do it any other way.”
“Do you bear the burden of his death so easily?” she asked, confused.
I shook my head. Sometimes I wondered if Justine and I would ever understand each other. I had seen her execute hundreds of rogue vampires over the years, and enjoy it. She did her job with a bloodless precision that I would never have, yet she balked at this. I wondered if it was because Archie was human, or because there was no fight in it.
“No,” I said finally. “I have many deaths on my conscience, Justine, and I bear none of them lightly. But this is the right thing to do.”
———
Justine and I stood uncomfortably in the hall while Archie said his goodbyes to his son and grandson, Warren. John took the boy back to bed and though I offered for him to return and be with his father in his last moments, he declined.
“We’ve said everything we wanted to say,” he assured me.
“I understand,” I replied. “I can promise you that it will be painless, and we’ll even make every effort to see that he finds joy in his last moments, but what we’re about to do is the stuff of most humans’ nightmares. I don’t want you to ever wonder if we . . . hurt him in any way. If you want to stay, you’re welcome to do so.”
“Over the last few months I’ve often heard him call my mother’s name in his delirium, but sometimes,” John said, looking over my shoulder at Justine, “he would call hers. Not many seventy-six-year-old men get to die in the arms of two beautiful women. I’ll let him have that moment to himself.”
I watched John walk down the hall to his son’s room and then I turned back to Justine.
“When this is over,” she said coldly, “I do not ever want to speak of it again.”
I nodded in agreement and followed her into Archie’s room. Justine walked to the far side of the bed and we sat across from each other, Archie’s frail body between us. There were deep lines between his brows and around his mouth, but when he saw us he tried to smile through the pain.
“My girls,” he said with a small nod of his head. “I’m ready.”
Justine leaned over him, her face inches from his. Her hand came up and she stroked the side of his face. “Mon cher,” she said softly, “You remember how this is done, non?”
He looked up at her. “I remember,” he said.
His eyes took on a glazed look the moment she be-spelled him. I waited for her to drink, but she didn’t move. Just as I was about to open my mouth to speak, she bent her head to his neck and drank from him more gently than I’d ever seen her drink from another human. And he smiled as she did so. When she could take no more, she pulled back.
Archie took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes. “So . . . beautiful,” he murmured haltingly. Already he was weaker than I expected. “I . . . would hear . . . you sing . . . once more . . . before I go.”
Justine swallowed hard and there was a sadness in her eyes that I had rarely seen. She walked to the foot of the bed and stood there with her back to us for several moments. I gave her the time she needed to compose herself.
“Archie,” I said. “Look at me now.”
Reluctantly he pulled his eyes from Justine and allowed me to bespell him. When I had him under my control, I glanced back at Justine and nodded. Her gaze flicked quickly from my eyes to Archie’s face.
“Look at her,” I said. “And listen.”
Chills ran through me as Justine’s soprano echoed through the room. It was Gounod’s Ave Maria. Archie’s dark eyes stared at her, transfixed, and I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was because of vampire magic or the sheer perfection of her voice.
“Goodbye, my friend,” I whispered.
I drank deeply—and within minutes Archie Little took his last breath in this world.
CHAPTER 14
Justine stalked into the hotel ahead of me and headed to her room without a word. She was angry with me, but I didn’t think it was necessarily because of what we’d done. When you
live with someone long enough, you know things without them having to say it. Justine, Devlin, Michael—they all lived in the vampires’ world. Since their turning, none of them had cultivated any relationships with humans. Mankind was something to be protected, but merely as a renewable supply of food. And then I’d come along, and I couldn’t seem to break free of my ties to humanity. First Fiona’s death, and then Archie’s . . . they were losses that Justine wouldn’t have felt if it hadn’t been for me. That’s why she was angry.
But she’d been angry with me before, and I with her. It didn’t mean we didn’t love each other and I knew, once we’d both had time to grieve, things would return to normal. I winced as she slammed the door to her room. When she was upset with Devlin, they fought like wildcats. I envied them that because their arguments raged, but were over quickly. She’d always behaved differently with me, though. It never lasted long, but I would have to endure Justine’s silence until she got over her anger. I was never sure who had it easier with her, me or Devlin.
Michael had come out into the hall when Justine slammed her door. “You two have been gone quite a long time,” he said. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Archie died tonight,” I said simply as I walked into our room. I tossed my hat on the bed and just stood there, unsure of what to do now.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
“No,” I replied. “Yes. I held his hand while he died, Michael, and I feel . . . cheated somehow that I wasn’t there to do the same with Fiona. I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
“Sure you did, lass. You said goodbye the last time we left Ravenworth.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I grumbled.
“I know it’s not,” Michael said softly. “But you’ve known for many years now that every time you say farewell, it may be the last time. Right now you wish you’d been there, but Fiona would not have wanted that and I think, deep down, you wouldn’t either.”
“Perhaps not,” I admitted. “But I should have been there for her, as I was with Archie. Of the two of them, it should have been her I was with in those final moments.”
Michael was silent for a moment. “Close your eyes,” he said, “and think of Archie. Tell me what you see.”
I did as he asked and I saw a sick old man.
“You don’t remember the big, handsome young man who helped us fight a demon, do you?”
I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “No,” I replied.
“But when you think of Fi she’s always young, strong, and beautiful, is she not? It’s the way she’d want to be remembered by you, not as an old woman on her deathbed. She wouldn’t want you to see that every time you thought of her.”
I looked up at him. “What would I do without you?”
“Ah, lass. You expect too much of yourself. The world wouldn’t come crashing to a halt if you were a little selfish every now and then, you know.”
“Hmmm. I’ll have to remember that the next time we’re in bed.”
“See that you do, mo ghraidh, and I will happily service you in whatever way you demand,” he teased. “But right now we have a ship to board and a damsel in distress to rescue.”
Yes, the ship would sail with the morning tide and we had to be on it before sunrise. I was worried for Claire and her family, but a small part of me was glad to have something else to focus on besides the pain of death. For possibly the first time in my life, I was happy to leave England behind.
CHAPTER 15
The voyage across the Atlantic only took a couple of weeks, during which time we all repeatedly thanked our respective gods for the invention of the steam engine. Devlin had never been a good sailor and to say that he was miserable was an understatement. It’s funny how I often forget how very large and intimidating he is until he’s cranky. This had not escaped the notice of the human sailors, though, and they all tried valiantly to stay out of his way. For the most part Devlin remained in his cabin, where I assumed Justine did her best to keep him occupied. That was fine with me. The tension between us had eased somewhat, but she was still often terse and moody in my company.
We made port at St. George in Bermuda for a few days to take on some supplies and allow Devlin to walk on dry land again. Mostly, though, Captain Hines simply wanted to wait until the moon was waning before we attempted to sail into Savannah. The Union blockade was sparse and largely ineffectual, but the captain wanted to take as few risks as possible with his ship. It would be much easier to run into Savannah under the cover of a moonless night.
Shortly after full dark on the night of the new moon we all stood on the deck of the Wraith, searching the dark waters for any sign of Union gunboats. The crew all breathed a sigh of relief when we sailed into the Savannah River Channel unmolested. I think Michael was a bit disappointed that he didn’t get to witness a great chase on the high seas, with cannons firing. In truth, perhaps, I was as well but one look at the way Devlin stood hunched over with his arms braced on the railing and I couldn’t imagine how he would have survived it. Seasickness won’t kill a vampire, of course, but it might make him long for a nice, sharp wooden stake.
Michael offered to go to Jamaica in Devlin’s place but that proposal only served to wound our leader’s masculine pride. Devlin drew himself up and announced with great indignation (which would have come off much better if he hadn’t been a tad green), “I have fought countless horrifically bloody battles in more wars than you will ever see. I think I can manage to make it to Jamaica and back.”
And that was the end of that discussion. I felt sorry for Devlin, and responsible for his discomfort. He’d made this journey for me, after all, to help a member of my family. I pulled Michael aside as the sailors were bringing our trunks up from our cabins.
“I want you to ask Justine to stay with Devlin,” I told him.
“Not that I have an objection,” Michael said, “but why?”
“Because Devlin will be happier with that arrangement, and so will she. And you might suggest that they take a few days to rest before they return. We’ll be fine here and I hate to put Devlin through a return trip immediately. Also,” I added, “I think perhaps some time apart would be good for Justine and me.”
Michael put his arms around me. “I believe she’s been thinking of her sister,” he said softly. “And I think she’s a little jealous of you right now.”
“Jealous?” I said, incredulously.
“You know that she made the decision to cut all ties to her human life when she disappeared from the stage of the Paris Opera—and from her life in the king’s court—to become a vampire. Though she and Devlin stayed in Paris until Solange died, she never spoke to her sister again. You and Fiona had the sort of relationship that Justine and Solange never had, and you continued that relationship even after you were turned. I think maybe Justine is envious of that. It’s not your fault, but you must let her work through it in her own head.”
“I know,” I said. “It just makes me sad.”
“What makes you sad?” Devlin asked, coming up behind us. “If you tell me it’s getting off this damned ship, I just might throttle you.”
I laughed and cast a pointed look at Michael. He took the opportunity to nod meaningfully to Justine and the two of them hung back to talk as Devlin and I dis-embarked.
“The captain says we have a few hours in port while he offloads his cargo,” I observed as we left the ship. “What would you like to do?”
“Have a proper meal, for one thing. I’m starving,” he said, and wobbled a bit on his feet as we stepped onto the gangplank.
I took his arm, as I would take the arm of any gentleman, but my intention at the moment was simply to steady him. I glanced up at him, but his face held that determined look I’d come to know so well. He was more convinced than I was that he could walk without falling over. As I was certain he would find it offensive if I asked him if he needed a moment, I dropped my reticule instead. Kneeling down, I intentionally picked it up from the bott
om, scattering its contents across the wooden planks. Michael and Justine caught up to us and the three of us retrieved my belongings while Devlin stood perfectly still and allowed his body to become accustomed to ground that didn’t move under his feet. As Justine handed me several coins and a handkerchief, I winked at her. She smiled—the first genuine smile I’d seen from her in weeks—and stifled a laugh. By the time we were ready to continue on our way, Devlin looked much more capable of walking under his own power. And they say women are vain.
We took a carriage into Savannah, carrying with us only the trunk filled with gold. Sailors from the Wraith would deliver the rest of our belongings to the Pulaski House hotel, which the old man driving the carriage had assured us was one of the grandest hotels in town, after their cargo had been offloaded. As we drove along the wide thoroughfares, we questioned our driver about the city and the various districts we passed through. It was always nice to know where the best hunting might be found.
Savannah was as lovely a city as I had ever seen. Unlike London at this time of year, the gardens and town squares were filled with green leaves and blooming flowers. I quickly fell in love with the brightly colored azaleas, the abundant hydrangeas, the exotic palms, and the oak trees dripping with Spanish moss. I could have happily enjoyed the scenery for hours, but shortly the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the Pulaski House. Justine and I strolled into the hotel’s spacious lobby, glancing around appreciatively at the marble interior. The men followed behind us with the trunk, waving off the two black porters who rushed up to relieve them of their burden. It was incredibly heavy and I knew they didn’t want anyone speculating as to what was inside.
“I require a room, please,” I said to the man standing behind the highly polished front desk.
He was short, with a round, ruddy face and a receding hairline. Spectacles perched gingerly on his bulbous nose, making his whole face appear more jovial than I was used to seeing from clerks in fine hotels. They were usually a starchy, pompous lot. It made me smile at him and he flushed, his clear blue eyes shifting from me to Justine and then to the men.