by Celia Kyle
“Fuck your ‘sorry’ and fuck you. If this is what you want, some arrangement where we live our own lives, then fine. We’ll meet, we’ll feed, and then we’ll part. Because this,” she waved her hand and gestured at the room. “I can’t do this again anytime soon. You should have let me die.” She turned the knob and pulled open the door.
When she stepped through the portal, leaving his domain, he couldn’t help but speak to her once more.
“Katherine…” she glared at him with dark chocolate eyes and he wished they were red and hungry for him once more. “I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry.
Two words, three syllables and then she’d been alone. Oh, Kate had been the one to walk out of his room, unable to be locked in a confined space with Joce, but she was the one alone.
She still didn’t understand how they’d gone from passion to pain, but they did. And it was pain. No, agony. It struck her heart and had her body slowly freezing from inside out, the sensations growing with every day they remained apart.
They were up to seven now.
Seven days since they’d nearly solidified their bonding, shared their passion, and he’d kept his distance ever since. Mostly. She was able to sense his growing, gnawing hunger and assumed he could do the same with her. So that’s when he approached, stilted conversation followed by a blood exchange and then he had to rush off, emotional turmoil covering his features.
Each day ending with a whispered, I’m sorry.
She wasn’t sorry. Not really. She didn’t care for the way her life had been partially destroyed with her new vampiric status, but she still got to practice medicine, albeit on vamps. She didn’t like the fact that she’d been forced to move into Carac’s mansion, though she understood it was for her own protection. Things were happening in the Other underworld of the city. Vamps and Broken along with Others battled and prepared for… something.
Tory was still trying to hunt up any warnings in the books in the protector library.
The protectors were busy, Wren played homemaker for the males, and Tory sought answers. Kate only had something to do when one of the protectors came stumbling in injured once more. She stitched them up, pumped them full of blood, and sent them on their way.
All with supplies from the medical clinic no one knew existed until recently. The place where she’d been both destroyed and saved. The place she avoided.
Having servants was wonderful.
So, she’d avoided the room. Until today. Was she allowed to go back there?
Well, no one said she couldn’t return, so she did. She remembered the gleaming surfaces, the smooth floors, the way the walls sparkled, so crisp and white.
She traversed the hallways, turning this way and that, passing the room where she watched over Joce, and on until she came to the familiar—yet not—double doors. They swung both ways, allowing easy entrance and exit with a single push and without the bother of dealing with doorknobs. The hinges were smooth, no screeches or rough squeaks when she nudged one. It slipped aside easily, exposing the clinic’s interior.
She slowly made her way into the massive room, gaze gradually taking in each surface, each piece of machinery, each tool and supply. Everything a doctor could ever need to help heal vampires. The whir of a refrigerator along the back wall told her where she could find blood and she had no doubt the stock was filled and fresh at all times.
Vamps needed blood and not just to feed—to heal.
Kate delved deeper, no longer looking through the space like a casual observer, but one who’d have to work in the room. She noted the massive autoclave for instrument sterilization. The stacks and stacks of gauze, bandages, and disposable gloves. She ran her fingers over the boxes noting the thick layer of dust that told her no one had used the beautiful space in quite some time. The letters on the sides were faded, the maker’s name unfamiliar to her.
Except for the stack of boxed gloves to the far right. Those were size small and the print on the label was bright and new.
Bought just for me.
She sensed Joce’s presence before he spoke, but she kept her back turned, not quite ready to face him. Their blood exchange was usually scheduled. A quick transaction over and done in moments before he disappeared once more.
For a couple fated to be together, they didn’t spend much time in each other’s company. So much for being his fire. She was so cold and needed her own source of heat—she couldn’t be his, too.
“It took a woman to drive me from this place—away from healing, you know,” he murmured, drawing closer to her. The shift of fabric, the soft padding of his boots on the tile, told her how close he came. “It took another to bring me back.”
Politeness had her responding to his presence, if not his words. She didn’t understand what he was talking about. “I didn’t realize we had an appointment.”
She wouldn’t face him. She wasn’t sure she could. She hadn’t had a chance to prepare herself for his presence.
“Kate,” he sighed and came nearer. “I need…”
His need wasn’t one of hunger. She didn’t sense that edge in him and it was something she’d learned after the first couple days. The tenor, the tremor, always gave him away. It made her think he waited too long between feedings, that he purposefully starved himself so he wouldn’t have to see her as much.
What a boost for her ego.
She slowly turned, placing her back against the counter. “What do you need?”
He ran his palm over his bald head. A glance at the clock revealed the time. Already it’d ticked over to five. His late day shadow already decorated not only his cheeks but his skull as well. It left the skin prickly and she knew it’d tickle her palm as she traced the smooth curve of his head.
She’d only done it once but would always remember.
His gaze met hers, so many emotions lurking within his eyes as he stared at her. “I need…” He licked his lips and took another step. “I need you.”
She breathed deeply, nostrils flaring as she drew in the air to check his emotions. There was no rough sting of his hunger and she shook her head. “No, you’re fine.”
“I’m not,” he countered. “I’m so far from fine.”
A fine tremor overtook him, hand shaking, and he crossed his arms over his chest, hiding them from view.
Concern rushed forward, the possessive feelings, the caring that lurked inside her, coming to the fore. He was her mate, their blood exchange made it so, and she couldn’t stand for him to suffer. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s not something physically wrong. It’s…” He sighed and dropped his head, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m tired, Kate. I’m tired of being separated from you and it’s my own fault.” He took a deep breath, as if preparing for battle, and spoke once more. “It all began with Amice.”
“Oh,” she whispered the word, knowing pain and heartache lurked, that it’d come out more and more as he talked.
So he’d loved someone else. This thing between them was all biological. All of it. Of course it was, though. How could she have imagined there was something real? They knew each other for all of a second. They’d never even exchanged names before they were tied together. No hello, my name is… They went from healing each other to claiming each other. Nothing in between.
“She was a healer.”
Should I give her a gold star? Okay, nasty sarcasm didn’t suit her even if she’d love to hunt down this Amice and rip out her heart. He might have loved—still loved—the other woman, but Joce was Kate’s now.
“Okay.”
“You’re not going to make this easy.” He quirked his lips in a rueful smile.
“I don’t know what this is.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how to feel about anything anymore. I can’t make anything hard if I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.” She sighed. “I just don’t care anymore.”
Liar.
No, it was more than that. “I don’t think I can let myself care.”
; She cared too much but refused to be hurt by his rejection. He’d done it already. Every day for seven days, in fact.
Joce flinched. “I’m—”
“Don’t apologize.” She held her hand out, slicing through the air in an effort to silence him. “Not again. I can’t take it.”
“Not saying the words doesn’t change my feelings. It doesn’t mean my regret has vanished.”
“Hearing them doesn’t change my feelings either. I still don’t want to listen to you tell me how sorry you are, how much you wished none of this had happened.” She immediately shot back. “Look,” she sighed. “I get that we got caught up in things that day and now we’re stuck with each other. I get it.”
“I’m not stuck with you. You’re my fire. You’re the other part of me. You’re…” He closed his eyes and anguish overtook his features. The emotion had her backtracking in her own thoughts. Wondering. Waiting. Had she been wrong? “You’re my world and it scares the hell out of me. I can’t lose you.”
“You don’t exactly have me, Joce. You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Because I care.”
“Doubtful,” she sneered.
“I was a doctor for a few years. Even as a protector, I cared for others.” He opened his eyes and stared at her once more, bright orbs filled with swirling emotions. “I put them together and shipped them back out to see after the Broken. I was a protector, but I fought in a place like here.” He spread his arms, gesturing at their surroundings. “And then there was Amice.”
Kate kept her lips pressed together, unwilling to interrupt him. She wanted to know about Amice, this faceless woman who stood between them.
“You see,” regret and grief consumed his features. “Amice killed my brother and then I… killed her.”
Joce’s heart nearly exploded from his chest, the words thrown to the ground between them. He’d never said them aloud, never admitted the truth to anyone. Not his parents, not Carac, not the rest of the ring. No one.
He’d been too afraid. Him. Knight Protector. Vampire.
Killer.
He stared at Katherine, drinking his fill as he gazed at her. Beautiful. Gorgeous. More than he deserved. Much more.
He wouldn’t return her though, he wouldn’t release her to another or allow anyone to touch a hair on her head. Tory had quietly pulled him aside, told him there might be a way to break their connection.
No. Never.
When she remained quiet, as if waiting for him to continue, he gave her the rest. Everything. Every painful morsel and every drop of blood.
“I was taught to heal. Never harm. Even then, all those years ago.” He shook his head, remembering how different his life was. “It was the 1300s. We worked in small, dirt-floored huts, but we did what we could for everyone who walked through the door. I did my best to heal who I could and assisted the passing of those I couldn’t.”
He padded forward, not stopping until he reached an exam table near her. She remained in place at the counter, and he lifted himself onto the shining metal. Eight feet separated them, but it might as well have been miles.
But she didn’t run. That was a plus. In fact, she mirrored his movement, pushing herself onto the clinic’s counter.
“My brother was the same. Mostly. We were born vampires, not turned.”
She frowned. “That can happen? Female vamps can get pregnant?”
He nodded. “Yes, not often, but it can. We live forever and the world would be overrun by us if it was as easy for vamps to procreate as it is for humans. But that means vampire children are coveted and cherished.” He remembered his mother’s smile and his father’s gruff manner. The way his father pushed and his mother coddled. “Amice delivered my brother and me. Twins. Always twins with vamps. Someone to go through our first Hunger with. Someone to lean on. Someone to support you when you doubt yourself. Parents provide love—”
“Siblings provide support,” she finished. “I have—had—a sister. My mother called us twins since she was about a year younger than me.”
“Had?”
She swallowed hard and nodded, a hint of moisture filling her eyes. He wanted to go to her, wipe away the growing tears because Katherine understood the loss, and that destroyed him.
“Baxter was older than me by five minutes. From then on, it was me and Bax. Going to school. Learning about being a vampire in a human world. Learning how to care for humans, ensuring their health and survival. If they died, we died.” He sighed. “It sounds horrible now, as if we treated them like cattle or something, but then it was just pure caring. My parents taught us. Humans sacrificed for us and deserved our respect in return. It was why Bax and I went into healing. It was why I was also a protector in addition to a healer.”
“The ultimate form of care.”
He nodded. She understood that too. More than he realized, and he wondered why he’d forced himself away from her.
No, now came the part of the story that reminded him.
“Amice was human and she knew so much about healing. She taught us everything she knew, led us from the time we were young until we were prepared to take over the care of our small town.” He thought back to that time, his brother’s smiling face and pure joy at helping others. Joce enjoyed the work, but Bax loved it. Healing was in his blood.
“Bax didn’t have the best control of his bloodlust, but I did. I kept him in line. I allowed him to treat everyone who came to our door and he didn’t have to worry about being overcome by the desire to feed. That was where my strength lay.”
He could picture the scene once more. Joce soaked through by the heavy rains, trudging up the muddied lane while leading his lame horse. He’d been expected hours ago, but his delay was unavoidable.
Then the scream.
Then the shout.
Then…
“I kicked open the door. I thought something happened, that a drunkard had invaded Amice’s home. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Some knew her to be a healer, others called her a witch. There was no telling what I would find.” The wood smashed against the wall, banging and surprising the occupants. “I found Amice attacking Bax, stabbing him over and over again. Shouting at him. Calling him the devil, an abomination, a demon.” He shook his head. “To her human, suspicious mind, we were, I suppose.”
He met Katherine’s stare, noting the tears that trailed down her cheeks, and he couldn’t remain in place. He needed the feel of her beneath his palm, her warmth within him. He slid from the table and slowly made his way to her, waiting for her denial and praying she kept her mouth closed.
She allowed him to nudge her legs apart so he could fit his hips between her spread thighs. She let him rest his forehead against hers and share her breath.
“She didn’t stop. She kept stabbing and stabbing, shoving harder and harder.” His throat ached and he knew his tears eased forward to flood his eyes. “And Bax… He…”
“He wouldn’t hurt her. He was a healer.”
“No,” he wheezed. “He wouldn’t. Even more, her first strike was at his throat. She debilitated him with that hit. And we were young vamps. We weren’t very powerful and the damage she’d caused with her initial attack harmed him greatly. He was too consumed with trying to stop the flow from his throat. He was also too injured to temper his retaliation, so he didn’t defend himself. He apologized to me. With his eyes. He apologized. And then I…”
He didn’t want to remember.
Katherine’s arms encircled his shoulders, one hand sliding along his neck and then she cupped his head, encouraging him to rest his cheek on her shoulder. He took the comfort and allowed her to hold him close.
“What happened next?”
“I broke her neck. I wouldn’t have her blood in my mouth. I couldn’t. I—” The stench of Amice’s blood disgusted him, the memory still taunting him. “For a moment, I became a Broken. Right that second, I wanted to violate every vampire law and destroy every single human I came across. A human killed my brother. I wa
nted them to all suffer for that.”
Blood lust rode him hard that day, urging him to seek vengeance against the race that’d destroyed Bax. After all they’d done, all they’d sacrificed and fought for, it’d killed his brother in the end.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because Bax wouldn’t have wanted me to. Because even as he bled to death on that dirt floor, he’d pleaded to me with his gaze.”
Forgive me. Don’t hurt them. It isn’t their fault.
“I’ve always had him on my shoulder, a conscience I didn’t want. So, I let my hate fester and boil, but I didn’t allow it free reign.” He sighed. “I wanted to, though.”
So badly. So very badly.
Warin’s voice interrupted their quiet moment. “Joce, Carac wants to talk to you both. He sent me to fetch you.”
With that, the other vamp strode from the room—Warin wasn’t much of a talker.
Quiet descended, but only until Katherine broke it. “I think I understand now.”
He shook his head and turned back to her. Unable to keep his hands to himself, he captured her hands. “I don’t understand it myself. I just feel this drive to consume you, but the push to stay away is just as hard. I’m not trying to be an asshole, Katherine. I’m not trying to be a piss poor mate. I just—”
Her warm palm smoothed over his chest, coming to rest over his heart. “You trusted someone with everything inside you and she betrayed you. You trusted, you loved, and it killed your brother.”
Her fingers dug into his flesh as she pushed against him, accentuating her words. “I get it. We all do the best we can with what life throws at us. You just got a little more than everyone else. Just… don’t shut me out. We can’t be together unless we’re together and I…” She grabbed his shirt and tugged him forward and he went without protest. “I’m cold without you.”
When she hugged him this time, he noticed other things about her. She was cold. Her skin was chilled to the touch and he discovered the fire that normally consumed him left him freezing.
Fear did this to her, to them, and he wouldn’t let it continue. He would—
