by Janet Jones
Ellory, if you can hear me, read my mind. Do it now.
He froze with his fangs poised above her jugular, his soul on the threshold of madness, and closed his eyes, clutching at the image she offered. He saw himself in the armchair in the den at home. Shelby sat in his lap. He saw the love and absolute trust in her eyes as she looked at him.
Talisen's voice poured into his mind like a warm waterfall, washing away the hunger. That's who you are. Not this.
He opened his eyes and looked down at her blister-red cheeks. “Thank you."
She reached for his hand. “Get a grip, Captain. There's a human eighteen-wheeler headed our way, and with a grin like his, he doesn't look safe."
Ellory followed Talisen's gaze. Sartori was on the approach, all three-hundred leather-clad pounds of him.
The creature got close enough to saturate the air with his combined bouquet of stale cologne, garlic and body odor, but he stopped when he saw Talisen and flung his fat hands out dramatically. “Whoa! I see it's B.Y.O.D. with you, boy, all the way. Sweet!"
Ellory halted him with a glare. “Put your eyes elsewhere, you slimy sycophant, before I turn them into meatballs and feed them to this crowd."
There were catcalls and encouragement on all sides from their onlookers. Ah, so they liked that, did they? Ellory began to feel more in control of the situation.
A number of his brethren pressed a little too close to Talisen. He swept her behind him again and backed her into the wall, baring his fangs. They responded in kind.
A muffled wheeze came from Talisen. “Suggestion."
He turned his head a little, his gaze fixed on the wall of teeth in front of them. “Yes, my love?"
"Stop beating your chest and say something civil to them. And just out of curiosity, what does B.Y.O.D. mean?"
He winced. “Bring Your Own Donor. Sorry."
"I'll forgive you if you'll stop squishing me."
He felt Talisen nuzzle his side while she peeked around from behind him. The vampires pressed closer, their eyes taunting—and curious. Ellory studied their faces. It was Talisen they were staring at.
Of course. She was the only human in the place who wasn't under a vampiric enthrallment. She'd accompanied him here by choice. They were looking at a miracle, one they had probably never expected to see.
Sartori belched, breaking the stalemate. His voice slipped into a whiny contralto. “Hey, Benedikt, come outta the corner. Nobody's gonna hurt your little chow bag. Freya says you're supposed to do somethin’ real nice for us."
Freya says? Ellory collared Sartori and dragged him closer. There was Freya's mark on the cretin's fleshy, reeking neck. Ellory squinted and sneezed when Sartori's garlic necklace brought tears to his eyes. Superstitious fool.
Freya must have taken over the place, beginning with Sartori himself. Better and better. He slung Sartori aside and, very slowly, reached behind him for Talisen. “Sorry for being so rough."
She frowned up at him, ruffled and red-faced. “I'm thinking of changing your name to Tarzan."
He couldn't let down his guard enough to smile at her jibe. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her, hauled her close with her back to him, and fixed a stony gaze on his watching kin.
The old words came to him with difficulty, yet they felt right. “I wish you peace, a long night, and good hunting."
The others exchanged narrow-eyed glances with one another. They relaxed a little and returned the ancient salutation in a chorus of hesitant murmurs, fondling their prey as they did so.
Power. Ellory felt it resonate inside of him, horrible and beautiful. He bent his head to nuzzle and nip Talisen's throat in an open declaration of possession. “This one bears my mark. You will not touch her."
The vampires nodded in acquiescence. Even Blazek and his friends seemed mollified for the moment.
Freya whispered inside his mind. Well done, Ellory.
He turned and eyed the wall of windows above them that gave Sartori's office a view of the dance floor. There she was, clad in a long gown of cream and sapphire. A midnight angel.
Tell me, madam, is this a temporary state of affairs? Will all our golden coaches turn back into pumpkins when you move on?
Freya lifted her chin. That depends on you. Give them back their pride, and they will answer to you forever.
Pride? His gut wrenched, and he shook his head. No, Freya. All I can do is touch what we all share. The night.
She inclined her head. Good enough.
Ellory turned to Sartori. “Is your band up to a command performance? On behalf of our queen—and family solidarity."
Sartori nodded, setting his triple chin to jiggling. “At your service. They know all your songs."
Talisen beamed at Ellory. He gave her a long, hard kiss, reveling in the unabashed encouragement that erupted among their onlookers. When he turned and strode toward the stage, the crowd made way for him.
Whistles and exclamations shook the walls, and the vampires released their human companions and converged on the dance floor. Ellory bounded onto the stage, and one of the band members handed him a cordless electric violin.
The strobe was doused, and a spotlight cut through the darkness, framing him in a halo of red that warmed his skin. He touched the minds of each of the musicians behind him and found them totally immersed in the moment, a key ingredient for making his music work. Already the song was singing in his blood.
He tucked the violin under his arm and leaned into the microphone. “The piece I have in mind is not nearly old enough to do homage to our queen. Let us amend it with a dance that will suit her tastes. Some of you may remember it from a millennium ago. Glavyn's Estampie for our gracious lady, and make it your sweetest effort."
Applause and more cheering reverberated from floor to ceiling. His heart soared. He glanced up to see Freya clasp a hand over her mouth. Her head jerked in a nod of approval.
All formed a circle and struck the ancient pose, hands clasped, heads held high.
A tall blond vampiress called out, “What is the song?"
Ellory fixed his gaze on Talisen. She stood at the edge of the circle, half in darkness, half in light. Like his existence. Like his dreams. “Midnight Sun."
He cradled the violin under his chin, positioned his bow, and nodded to the drummer. The staccato of a lone heartbeat thumped and pulsated through the dark. He struck the strings hard, sounding out the first long, woeful warble. It was joined by the soulful voices of guitar, cello and piano.
He watched his people dance, their feasting forgotten. They rotated clockwise, hands clapping in syncopation, voices raised and ringing in an ethereal chorus no synthesizer could match. He gave them all of himself, poured his soul into his offering, his celebration of their shared immortality.
He watched Talisen dance, reveled in the way her body caught the rhythm of the dance and smiled as she edged closer into the circle. They opened for her and let her in. He tapped his foot, keeping time with her sensual undulations. So lovely. So strong. Any other woman would have run from all of this.
Her laughter throbbed in his head, in his heart, touching him everywhere. She smiled at him through the crowd. Do you know how good you look right now?
His bow bit into the strings, and the violin sounded out a high-pitched trill of raw desire. He closed his eyes, feeling the vibration trace along his heated inseam like a kiss. As long as you're pleased with what you see.
I'd be more pleased if you were dancing with me.
That can be arranged.
He flew from the stage without missing a beat and landed in the midst of the circle. He continued playing, while Talisen did a little pirouette around him that tied his heartstrings in knots and made him laugh. She looked at him with admiring eyes. No reservations. No fear. No regret. She really was his.
He gloried in the look of awe and appreciation in the eyes of his fellow creatures as they watched her dance for him. This moment would last him forever.
Ellory emitted a trium
phant, wicked laugh at the look of incredulity on her face when she saw how the rest of the vampires had stopped dancing to watch her. Didn't she realize how priceless she was to them? The willing human. A vampire fairytale come to life. She was hope personified. His hope.
He ended the song with a soaring wail that jolted the rafters. The room exploded in applause. He had just enough time to set the violin and bow aside on a table and pull Talisen into his arms before their audience swarmed like a wave over them both. They were hoisted onto shoulders and carried up the stairs, where Suvee admitted them into the hush of the office and sent the rest away.
Still laughing, Ellory caught Talisen's hand and kissed it, turning to eye Freya's back. “Well, madam? Will we do?"
She turned from the window with pink tears gleaming in her eyes and gave him a smile that, he knew, few of his kind had lived long enough to earn. He put his hands behind his back and smiled back at her, almost as proud of himself as the first time he'd shimmied up the mainmast without losing his breakfast.
One of the seven hooded revenants in the room hurried to Freya's side and offered his sleeve so that she could dry her eyes. When she had, her gaze settled on Talisen, and Ellory's ease was unseated in a heartbeat.
He felt Freya gather her power. She stoked it, brandished it—like a spear.
* * * *
She was conscious, but she wasn't. Talisen tried to break free, but a vise closed over her body, as powerful as the one that held her mind. Ellory? Where are you?
Echoes of his voice taunted her. I'm sorry. Freya is looking for something in your memories, something long ago. She won't explain. I had no idea. Just try to hold on. Stay with me.
A scalpel Talisen couldn't see cleaved her mind in two, and she screamed. Why was Ellory allowing this?
His voice sounded like a bazooka in her burning head. Freya, she doesn't deserve this.
Talisen writhed and tried to fight off the hand that peeled away her memories like an onion. Deeper. Deeper. Though she twisted and kicked, the vise held. The fingers tugged, and she screamed again, falling into nothingness. On the way down into the pitch black miles below her, the scent of jasmine filled her senses, and she felt Freya all around her. The vampiress was there in her mind, her carving hands still for the moment.
Peace, Talisen. Open your eyes. You're safe here.
At the sound of Freya's voice, Talisen opened her eyes and found herself standing upright in a dark place. Nothing here to see, just a long corridor ahead of her, lit by a soft golden glow that seemed to come from nowhere. There were doors, too many to count, running its length on both sides. Fear cut her next breath in half. She was too scared to be angry.
"What is this place?” she asked.
Freya's voice added a blue-green sheen to the shadows. “A peace offering. I have seen what I need to see and am satisfied. But I know it was difficult for you."
Talisen rounded on the darkness, searching for a glimpse of Freya, but she was nowhere. And everywhere. “Why did you do that to me?"
"I had a hunch. I wanted to know if I was right. I would now like to share with you what I discovered about you, let you see for yourself what I have found. It would be a simple matter merely to show you, but I think that would be unfair, and though what I have seen confirmed my thoughts about you, your choice here in this place will be far more revealing. Open any one of these doors, and you'll be drawn into all that lies behind it."
Talisen dug her toes into the soles of her sneakers and stared down the hall. “You mean ... these are my memories?"
"Everything your soul remembers from your long journey."
Instinct sent a warning rippling through Talisen. Self-enlightenment wasn't the only thing waiting for her in the gold-black shadows of the corridor. She took a step backward, trembling. “I don't want to do this."
"You won't reconsider?"
As Freya said it, a blue light shone under a door far away down the corridor. It captured Talisen's gaze. She swallowed hard, drawn to that light as though her life depended on it.
"As long as you don't open a door,” Freya reassured her, “nothing will happen."
Talisen ran her sweaty palms over her jeans. “I'm not sure I even believe in reincarnation."
"Really, Talisen? Or shall I call you Jessie, or Eva, or Leslie—or Sarah?"
Heart pounding, Talisen spun to look for Freya again. “Did you just call me Sarah?"
"No, I just called you Jessie/Eva/Leslie/Sarah/Talisen."
She turned and eyed the corridor again, wishing Ellory was there with her.
"You mean John/Richard/Anthony/Ellory."
Talisen rubbed her eyes, focused on the blue light far ahead of her and started down the hallway. The air was balmy here, like a warm bath. Sounds halted her at nearly every doorway. Tempting sounds. Grandma's laughter. A room full of it, separated from Talisen by a piece of imaginary wood.
Across the hall she heard Grandma reading “The Three Billy Goats Gruff,” her favorite bedtime story. She almost stopped long enough to listen.
One or two doors down, there was the lunchroom chatter at her high school, and she recognized every single voice, because those were some of the best friends she'd ever had.
The blue light beckoned, but it seemed so far away. She walked on until another door brought her up short. Her mother, singing a lullaby. Talisen leaned against the door to listen, her eyes blurring with tears, and wrapped her fingers around the doorknob. “Mama?"
A soft hum sounded in the hallway, yards in the distance. Talisen wiped her eyes and looked. The blue light shone even brighter. She drew a shaky breath and went on.
When the conversations she heard behind the doors seemed less and less familiar to her, she broke into a trot. She knew the people who were talking in the rooms she passed, but she didn't know how she knew them—or when. And the one voice she really wanted to hear seemed never to be among them.
Where was Ellory in this long hall of her memories? It would only be a tiny spot, the few moments she'd known him in her present lifetime.
"You're in for a surprise,” murmured Freya, “if you have the courage to look."
Talisen began to run, keeping her eyes fixed on the door with the blue light spilling out from beneath it. It was on the left side of the hall. Ten doors to go. Eight doors. Five. She came to a shuddering halt and nearly skidded past it.
The blue halo lit up the entire corridor, eclipsing everything behind and ahead of her. Behind the door, she heard the plink of a harpsichord and people laughing. A small chamber orchestra began a minuet. The blue dissipated to a soft gold, like candlelight. He was there. Ellory. Somewhere behind this door. She felt his presence to the depth of her being.
Panting, she pressed her ear to the door and listened, closing her eyes.
"Captain Benedikt, you are too gallant to refuse, surely."
She held her breath. At last she heard him speak. His voice rolled over her senses like rich, warm cream. “Mistress Rudyard, your cousin looks rather indisposed toward the Virginia Reel. Perhaps I may hope for the honor on another occasion."
Cousin? Whose cousin?
"Then dance with me, sir. Poor Sarah will understand."
Sarah? Sarah. Talisen grabbed the doorknob and gave it a twist, but froze before she opened it. “Hold on. This is some kind of a mistake. Or a trick. This isn't one of my memories. It can't be. I wasn't born yet."
"Really?” Freya murmured, seeming to be right behind her.
"This is one of Ellory's memories. It's the night he met Madeline. Right?"
"You tell me ... Sarah."
Talisen uncurled her fingers and let her hand fall away from the doorknob. It couldn't be. She shook her head. “I'm not supposed to be anywhere on the other side of that door. I don't belong there."
"That sentiment would seem to reflect the way you felt that night, to be sure. ‘Poor Sarah’ didn't understand at all. She felt rejected and betrayed, but said nothing."
Talisen sank into th
e floor and drew herself up in a ball across from the door, leaning back against the door behind her. The blue light bathed her feet. She pulled away from its touch.
"I wasn't Sarah!” she choked out. “Sarah was the one he ignored. He ended up with Madeline."
"Yes. And if he had danced with Sarah instead, it would have changed something, which would have changed something else, and so on."
"What the hell are you getting at?"
"Sarah did not live in Camden. She was from—"
"Massachusetts, yes. But what difference does it make?"
"Perhaps,” Freya said dryly, “it has to do with the fact that Aloisia's domain ended two and a quarter miles south of Camden. If Ellory had gone to live in Massachusetts with Sarah, Aloisia would have had no right to him, and he would not have been turned."
Talisen bit her lip, not daring to believe. “But he had family in Camden. He'd have chosen to stay there, regardless.
"His mother's people were from Massachusetts, I believe."
That was right. Ellory had told her the story of the summers he'd spent at his aunt's farm.
"Yes,” Freya went on, “his mother's property wasn't far from Braintree, in fact. And it needed repairs. It was very much on Ellory's mind to go there and refurbish it, but one whimper from Madeline over leaving her family, and he gave it up."
Talisen rested her head against the door behind her and closed her eyes. “He could've been spared all of this?"
"And lived the rest of his life with the woman he was meant for—the woman he has been with, lifetime after lifetime."
Talisen's tears turned the corridor around her into a watercolor wash of black and blue. She shook her head again, crying for Ellory and Sarah ... for Ellory and her.
Talisen clenched her teeth together. “I'm not going into that room, and that's final."
"I should hope not, because I can only offer you one of these memories, and that's not the one you should choose."
Talisen exhaled slowly. “It's not? Then why—"
She heard the sound of voices in the room behind her. One of them was the woman who had been talking to Ellory in the room across from her, just moments ago. “Is there no hope for my cousin, doctor?"
