Cliff's Descent

by Dianne Duvall

  Cliff shot him a look. “I didn’t say I wanted to stop hunting.”

  “I’m not talking about the hunting.”

  His pacing ground to a halt. Cliff turned to face him. Surely he didn’t mean…

  Bastien shrugged. “I know about Emma.”

  Of course he did. Cliff slid the car a look, thinking of the duffel bag packed with clean clothes and hand wipes. The cash Bastien had forked over. “How long have you known about her?”

  “Since the first night you went to see her.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Bastien leaned back against the car. “When you started roaming around on your own, infiltrating vampire groups and pumping them for information, I was afraid you’d pull some superhero martyr bullshit and get yourself killed, so I followed you and stayed downwind, ready to jump in if you needed me.”

  Yep. That sounded like something Bastien would do. He wasn’t the coldhearted bastard so many Immortal Guardians painted him.

  “Once I saw you with Emma, I stopped worrying. Because I knew you had something to live for. Something precious. Something so rare it took me two damn centuries to find it for myself.”

  The love he and Emma shared was precious. “Does Reordon know?”

  “About you and Emma? No. I’m sure he would’ve put a stop to it if he did. Like Seth and his Immortal Guardians, Reordon tends to be very protective of the females who work for him. Even more so if they’re gifted ones.”

  Which only lent credence to Cliff’s own assumptions about the network head.

  Straightening, Bastien reached beneath his coat and withdrew something from a back pocket. “Here.”

  Cliff crossed to him and took it. It was a jump drive. “What is it?”

  “Footage of what happened. All of it.”

  “I’ve already seen it. Reordon showed it to me.”

  Bastien tapped the drive. “This isn’t for you. It’s for Emma. She’s heard snippets of what happened. Everyone at the network has. And I’m sure your absence is scaring her. You should go to her.”

  Cliff held up the device. “You don’t think this will scare her more?”

  “No, I don’t. Any woman smart enough and strong enough to love you isn’t going to run screaming from footage of you beating the shit out of an asshole who tried to murder someone you care about. You are the sole reason Linda is alive today. Had you not confronted Whetsman when you did, she would’ve died in the back of his SUV without anyone the wiser. Zach said she was mere minutes away from death when he healed her.” He rubbed his jaw. “Aaaaaaand, full disclosure, Melanie had a talk with Emma quite a while back and laid out everything she could expect if she chose to have a relationship with you.”

  Cliff supposed some might resent their interference, but he chose to appreciate it. “I did, too.”

  “I knew you would. Just like I knew you wouldn’t continue seeing her unless she fully understood what happened with Whetsman and the others.”

  Cliff curled his fingers into a fist around the drive. “I love her.”

  “I know you do. That’s why I couldn’t stand to watch you keep torturing yourself—torturing both of you—by staying away from her. So go. Don’t worry about infiltrating other vampire ranks. We’re done with that. From now on, as soon as we finish hunting, you can head straight for Emma’s place.”

  If Emma still wanted to see him after this. “Could I get that duffel bag?”

  Bastien smiled. “Yeah.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emma snipped a dangling piece of yarn, then held up her latest creation.

  The soft winter hat was sprinkled with every color of the rainbow and sported a cheerful pom-pom on top. “Cute.”

  Leaning over the sofa arm, she dropped it atop the growing pile of similar hats that would soon fill the cardboard bankers box she’d bought to contain them. A week had passed since Cliff’s psychotic break. Tales of it still circulated the building and whispered through the cafeteria Cliff no longer visited.

  Cynthia gave Emma daily updates, courtesy of Todd, in the soundproof restroom after ensuring they were alone. If she hadn’t, Emma wouldn’t have known that Mr. Reordon had banned Cliff from having lunch in sublevel 1 and was once more restricting him to sublevel 5.

  Had he also banned him from hunting with Bastien? Or from roaming alone?

  Because Cliff hadn’t visited her once since his break.

  At least half a dozen times she had picked up the phone to call Melanie or Bastien. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what they’d say. According to Todd, Cliff was struggling and having a hard time coming to terms with what he did.

  Emma couldn’t stop thinking about the guards who’d wanted to shove Cliff out into the sunlight while he was sedated. Knowing just how close she had come to losing him terrified her. And she had feared those guards might seek retribution until Cynthia told her Mr. Reordon had been furious over their actions and had either fired or transferred every single guard who’d called for Cliff’s death.

  Slumped on the sofa in a tank top and pajama bottoms, Emma rubbed tired, gritty eyes.

  She hadn’t been sleeping. Even though exhaustion shadowed her, she was too tense to nap in the evening as had become her habit. And she’d been staying up late at night, hoping Cliff would show up, ring the new doorbell he’d helped her install a few months ago, and sweep her into his arms as soon as she opened the door.

  Sighing, she glanced at the bag full of yarn at her feet.

  Like Cliff, she had discovered that occupying her hands helped reduce the restlessness that plagued her, so she’d dug out the loom and gone to work. She’d made dozens of the damn hats so far but didn’t stop. Once the box was full, she figured she’d pick out a few to send to her parents, her brother and his wife, and her two nephews, all of whom lived in Michigan. The rest she would donate to a homeless shelter.

  Something thumped on the front porch.

  Jumping, she twisted around to stare at the door. Her heart began to beat a little faster, not with fear this time but with hope.

  The doorbell rang.

  Tossing the loom on the table she jumped up, tripped on some of the tangled yarn, and lunged for the door. Though she wanted to open it as soon as she reached it, common sense forced her to pause long enough to look through the peephole.

  Relief rushed through her.

  Her hands shook as she fumbled with the locks and yanked the door open.

  Cliff stared down at her, garbed all in black, his handsome face somber.

  Breath hitching, she threw herself against him and hugged him so hard she knocked him back a step.

  Swiftly regaining his balance, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head while he let her squeeze the stuffing out of him.

  “Are you okay?” she murmured.

  A moment passed. “Yeah,” he said softly. But he wasn’t. She could hear it in his voice.

  It only made her hold him tighter. “If you want to come in, you’re going to have to carry me, because I’m not letting go for at least five minutes.”

  A rusty chuckle rumbled beneath the ear she’d pressed to his chest. Then he lifted her a few inches so her feet dangled loosely above the wood slats of the porch. Pressing a kiss to her hair, he strode inside and nudged the door closed behind them.

  True to her promise, Emma didn’t let go of him for at least five minutes.

  Cliff didn’t object. He merely continued to hold her and seemed willing to do so for as long as she needed it.

  At last she loosened her grip.

  Cliff gently lowered her feet to the floor and released her.

  Tilting her head back, Emma cupped his face in both hands and studied him.

  On the surface, he looked good. Hale, hearty, and drop-dead gorgeous.

  But his dark brown eyes were haunted.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly. If he didn’t, she wouldn’t press him.

  A
sad smile tilted his lips as he drew a hand over her hair, which remained in the lovely braids he’d fashioned for her shortly before his break. “You’re too damn selfless.”

  She arched a brow. “Because I’d rather hold you and cop a feel than jibber-jabber?”

  He laughed, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement that warmed her heart. “Or maybe you aren’t.”

  Wrapping her arms around his waist in a loose embrace, she leaned into him. “I was worried about you.”

  Looping his around her waist, he linked his hands at the base of her spine and lowered his forehead to hers. “I know.” A weary sigh soughed past his lips. “You’re the best thing my life, Emma. The absolute best. But in a way, that makes dealing with these psychotic breaks even harder.” His forehead rocked against hers. “Every time I lose control, I am damn near paralyzed with fear afterward, wondering how you’re going to react to it.”

  She shrugged. “By loving you.”

  A faint amber glow lit his eyes but failed to conceal the very fear he spoke of. She could read it clearly and knew he was afraid to believe that.

  “Tell me what happened,” she encouraged him gently.

  Releasing her, Cliff backed away a step and drew something small out of one of his pockets. “Here.” He pressed it into her palm.

  Emma stared down at the unadorned jump drive. “What is it?”

  “Surveillance footage.”

  Her heart sank.

  “I want you to see it for yourself.”

  “Cliff—”

  “I need you to see it for yourself.”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded and led him over to the sofa.

  Cliff said nothing as she shoved the knitting paraphernalia aside to make room for him. Though he glanced at it curiously, Emma offered no explanation. She was too nervous.

  Face grim, he sank down on the cushion beside her and waited patiently for her to open her laptop and insert the drive.

  It only bore one file.

  Vowing to keep all expression from her face, Emma opened it and let the video play.

  The hallway down on what she assumed was sublevel 5 filled the screen. It wasn’t all that different from the one on her floor if she discounted the heavy-as-hell doors that secured the vampires’ apartments. Cliff emerged from one such apartment. Clearly agitated, he headed up the hallway.

  “Where were you going?” she asked, voice muted.

  “I was looking for Doc Linda. I was going to ask her to give me a milder dose of the sedative so I could sleep, but I couldn’t find her.”

  A man who was about Emma’s height and a little on the portly side exited the elevator and walked toward Cliff. “Is that Dr. Whetsman?”

  “Yeah. I’m about to ask him if he’s seen Linda. He lied and said he hadn’t, but I caught her scent on him and saw blood on his sleeve.”

  In the video, Cliff grabbed the man’s arm and brought it close to his face.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Confirming it’s her blood.”

  Oh shit. Cliff’s eyes flashed bright amber as he attacked the man. Violence erupted in the hallway.

  It was hard to watch. Not so much the Whetsman part, because he had hurt Linda. And Linda had been good to Cliff. But the rest…

  Cliff was such a sweet, gentle soul, more prone to laughter than to anger. To see him snarl and tear through those guards with such fury and ferocity…

  And they shot him soooo many times.

  It took every ounce of control to keep her eyes dry and her expression blank.

  On the screen, Cliff attacked Whetsman again in the network’s lobby, then dropped to his knees and collapsed.

  The sofa cushion beneath her sank a little as Cliff moved to halt the video, but Emma stayed his hand. “Let it finish.”

  Todd, bless him, was shouting at some guards who had made a move toward Cliff’s unconscious form. John, the brother in charge of security on the ground floor, joined him and helped Todd hold the others back.

  Then Mr. Reordon skidded around the corner with a semiautomatic rifle in his hand and ran up to them with three more guards.

  “Do you know what they were arguing about?” she asked. Had anyone told him?

  “Yeah. Some of the guards wanted to shove me out into the sunlight because I’d injured so many of them.”

  “And Mr. Reordon wouldn’t let them.”

  “No.”

  “Neither would Todd or John or that guy there or that one.” At last she met his gaze. “Because they know what I know—that you’re a good man, Cliff, who’s worth saving. And they haven’t given up on you.” She stroked his tight jaw. “I haven’t either. And I never will. I love you.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed in a swallow. “You can still say that after watching me injure so many?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you can say that knowing I’m going to do it again?”

  She shook her head. “You aren’t going to do it again.”

  When he opened his mouth to protest, she touched a finger to his lips.

  “You’ve had other psychotic breaks. Did you hurt anyone while you were in the grips of them?”

  “I hurt Stuart once.”

  “A fellow vampire who healed within minutes and didn’t hold it against you.” Cliff had told her about that. “Did you harm any humans? Or gifted ones? Did you attack any of the guards?”

  “No.”

  “These were extenuating circumstances, honey. You thought Whetsman had killed Linda, your friend. If I thought Whetsman had killed Cynthia, I would’ve fucked him up, too.”

  Reaching up, he clasped her hand and pressed her palm to his lips. He closed his eyes as he kissed it, then just held it there. “I don’t want that to be who I am,” he murmured despondently.

  “That isn’t who you are.”

  Opening his eyes, he lowered their clasped hands to his thigh. “It’s just going to get worse, Emma. You know it is.”

  Leaning in close, she held his gaze. “If it does, we’ll face it together.”

  He shook his head. “This isn’t the life I want for you. Always waiting for the next outburst, the next psychotic break. Watching me lose every bit of myself that you fell in love with.”

  “That isn’t going to happen.”

  “Emma,” he said, his expression tortured, “you have to face the reality of my future. I’ve been with the network for almost four years. They were studying the virus and seeking a cure long before they found me. And they’ve made no progress since then beyond finding a sedative that can knock me out. The chances of us having a happy ending together are infinitesimally small.”

  She swallowed hard, everything within her rebelling against his forecast. “I’ll take those chances if it means I’ll have more time with you.” When he would’ve spoken—another protest no doubt—she again touched his lips. “If it were me, would you walk away?”

  He recoiled slightly as though appalled by the mere thought of it. “What?”

  “You heard me. If I was the one infected with the vampiric virus and I was the one in the video we just watched, would you walk away?”

  He stared at her helplessly. “No.”

  “Why?”

  He exhaled a sigh of defeat. “Because I would want every moment I could have with you.”

  “Then what would you do instead?”

  “Fight like hell to keep you sane.”

  “Exactly.” Moving over, she settled herself sideways on his lap and pulled his arms around her. “You’re strong, Cliff.” She held out an arm, flexed her biceps in an exaggerated show of muscle, and arched a brow. “I’m strong, too.”

  His expression lightened. “Yes, you are.”

  “Together, we can do anything. We can fight this. We can beat this. Even though you may think it’s futile, we have to give Melanie and the other doctors more time.” She pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “I know it’s hard, honey, and
that things may get worse. But I’ll be here to help you through it. All of it.” She kissed him again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Those eyes of his brightened further as he dipped his head and claimed her lips in a longer, deeper kiss.

  Heat swept through her as his tongue met hers, stroking and teasing.

  The fear that had plagued her all week fell victim to the need to feel him against her, to assure herself he was still here, that he was still hers.

  Shifting, she straddled his lap.

  I thought I’d lost you, she wanted to say but didn’t, knowing it would merely spawn more guilt. “Cliff,” she said instead, “I need you.”

  “I need you, too,” he uttered, voice gravelly with desire. Clamping his hands on her ass, he rose. A breeze buffeted her as he sped to the bedroom and lowered her to her feet. He blurred. The sound of cloth tearing filled the room as she felt a tug.

  When Emma glanced down, she discovered she was naked with her clothes scattered on the floor around her. Looking up, she met his burning gaze. “Hell yes. Now do you.”

  He was bare in seconds, and together they tumbled to the bed. His touch was rough, carrying a hint of desperation that matched her own. But it only made her want him more as she writhed against him, hands exploring. She moaned and urged him on, just wanting him to fill her. But Cliff made her wait while he stroked and teased her until her breath came in short gasps and she balanced on the precipice. Then he plunged inside, his long hard length stretching her and eliciting moans of pleasure as he drove deep, again and again, his luminous amber eyes catching and holding hers until she threw her head back and cried out in ecstasy.

  Cliff growled as he came hard, pouring his heat inside her.

  Their harsh breaths filled the silence as he braced himself on his elbows, burrowed his arms beneath her, and hugged her close for many long minutes.

  Then he made love to her again, their coming together slower, gentler, and full of affection as they took their time exploring each other anew.

  When at last they rolled to their sides, his face was once more relaxed, his expression full of love rather than fear and dread. And his beautiful eyes had lost that haunted look.

  Emma cupped his strong jaw. “Always?”