by P. G. Forte
“You’ll forgive me, I hope, if I cannot join you in that sentiment?”
Georgia ignored him. “Only think how differently things might have turned out otherwise. If only fate had not conspired against us. If only we had not been separated so cruelly. Or if you had not gone off to Spain when you did. If only—”
“If only you had not cast me aside so heartlessly?”
“Unkind.” She shook her head in reproach. “And hardly accurate.”
“Perhaps not.” Conrad shrugged. “My point, however, is that we both have plenty to regret.”
“And my point is that it’s a waste of time to reproach ourselves over things we cannot alter. We are what we are. We can neither escape our nature, nor ever completely undo what’s been done to us. We can but try to rise above it. Have you not said so yourself?”
“Possibly.”
“I think, if we are lucky, we may find that we succeed in reining in our errant tempers more times than not. It’s not the falling down that matters, it’s the being willing to pick ourselves up again and again.”
“Very true,” Conrad said. “Yes. Very true. And, do you know what? I thank you. That was very much what I needed to hear tonight.”
Georgia stiffened as he came toward her, his arms outspread. If he hugged her now, if he got too close, would he be able to sense the wrongness in her? Would the next sound out of his mouth be a deadly snarl? A howl of disbelief? Or would he kill her so swiftly, she’d never hear it coming?
Conrad clasped her shoulders lightly, briefly, long enough to press one quick kiss upon her forehead. “I thank you for reminding me of that, my dear. You are always so good for me.” Smiling, he let her go and then headed for the door. “Now, I will leave you to get back to what’s left of your night. I apologize for having disturbed you.” He pulled the door open, then paused to look back at her. “But perhaps we might find time, in the next few days, to sit and talk with one another? I miss our chats.”
“I…of course. Indeed. I’ll look forward to it.”
“As will I.” And as quick as that, he was gone.
Georgia stared speechless at the door as it closed behind him, then rushed to lock it. She sagged against the wood for a moment, thanking her lucky stars that she was still alive, wondering for how much longer she could keep up the pretense, and why she even bothered. The outcome would be as ugly as it was inevitable.
She couldn’t help but wonder what Conrad would want to talk to her about. Perhaps she was reading too much into his remarks. It was possible he had no ulterior motive, that he actually meant what he’d said. After all, she also missed being able to sit and talk with him, without the constant fear that she’d do or say something and give herself away. She missed that quite a lot, in fact.
“So. You wish that you and Conrad had never been separated, do you?” Christian lounged in the bedroom doorway, arms crossed. His eyes practically sparked with anger. “How very touching. Although, I do have to wonder, where would that have left me?”
Georgia sighed. “Don’t start. Of course there are things I wish had been different, why would I not? If you reach my age and cannot say the same, I shall be very much surprised.”
“If I reach your age?” Christian laughed angrily. “Yes, well, with the way things are going, I should be very surprised by that myself.”
And whose fault will that be? The old familiar bitterness washed over her, but Georgia was too tired to argue. What was the use? What could either of them say on the subject that they had not already said hundreds of times before? Reproaches were a waste of time, as were regrets. Life was what it was.
“Well, I don’t know why,” she said instead. “With just a little forethought and proper planning, I know of no reason why you should not live for a very long time indeed.”
Christian frowned. “Really? And how is this? Has a miracle occurred of which I’m unaware? Have you a brilliant new plan you’ve yet to share with me?”
“Nothing so dramatic. I’ve merely been giving the matter some thought. It occurred to me that this need only be my problem. There’s no reason both of us should be made to suffer. When I am found out, I’ve decided ’twould best for you to pretend ignorance. You must act as shocked as everyone else; claim that I lied, that I told you nothing. What is there to suggest otherwise? You display no symptoms, after all. So long as you’re careful and do nothing to pass on the disease to anyone else, there’s no reason anyone should ever suspect the truth.”
“When you’re found out?” Christian repeated. “You speak of it as though it were a foregone conclusion.”
Georgia shrugged again. “I think it’s best to face facts, don’t you? We’ve had a good run, you and I. We’ve staved off this doom for quite some time, but the truth is, it’s always been inevitable. As things stand now, it will probably happen sooner rather than later. My health is deteriorating. Indeed, it’s a miracle I’ve avoided detection as long as I have.”
“So that’s it then? You’re giving up?”
“I’m only trying to be practical, to give you a plan for the future. Would you prefer I abandon you to your fate?”
“What you term practical, I call defeatist.”
“Christian…”
“No! I will not listen to any more of this. What has changed all of a sudden? Where’s my warrior queen, the woman who would face down armies? She would never give up like this—never—not if there was even the slightest chance of winning through.”
“She’s tired,” Georgia snapped. “That’s what’s happened to her! She sees this fight for what it is—a losing battle, one she cannot ever win. And she grows weary of this…this endless subterfuge.”
Christian snorted in disbelief. “Does she now? And I’m sure that has nothing to do with Conrad, does it? With his visit here tonight, with the feelings he always stirs up in her.”
“So we’re back to that already? Honestly, Christian, this jealousy is absurd. What do you even know of my…of my feelings for Conrad?”
“I know that you have them, which is already more than I wish to know.” He sighed and shook his head. “I know there’s a tenderness in your voice when you speak with him that is never there otherwise. I know your thoughts of him consume you, how you’re always wondering what will he do, what will he think, how will he react when he learns the truth. Tell me, how long has it been since you’ve drawn so much as a single breath without the thought of Conrad crossing your mind? Or don’t you even recall?”
“You’re being childish. Stop it.”
“You’ll never admit it, will you? However, since we’re speaking honestly, tell me why I should even bother trying anymore? If you’re so convinced that this disaster is inevitable, if it’s only a matter of time and you’ve truly given up hope, why have you not thrown in the towel already? Why not go to Conrad tonight and confess? Meanwhile, I’ll simply cut and run. If I’m no longer needed or wanted here, why should I not head back to England, go into hiding, leave you to deal with the consequences on your own? Is that what you want?”
“You know it’s not,” Georgia mumbled, her voice hollow as she made her way to the sofa that made up part of the seating arrangement in the suite’s small living room. She moved slowly, as though every movement hurt. Perhaps it did. Christian’s heart raged against the unfairness of it all.
He watched as Georgia lowered herself onto the couch. She gazed up at him, entreatingly. “You know how much I depend upon you, don’t you? How much I need you here, how much I love you?”
“I know you need me.” It was the worst aspect of this cursed disease, the fact that no other blood but his could nourish her. Why shouldn’t she love him—for that fact alone? But knowing he was the only thing that stood between her and oblivion meant he could never be certain there was anything else between them.
It certainly wouldn’t surprise him to learn she hated him. Aft
er all, it had been he who’d infected her in the first place. Add to that the cruel fact that he remained healthy and strong while she wasted away? Oh, no, that would not surprise him at all.
As a carrier, he was, for all practical purposes, immune to the disease—the result of his already having been infected before he was turned. The disease in his blood had inoculated him, even as it doomed her. He could feed from whomever he wished without suffering any ill effects and, as long as he fed only from humans, there was no fear of spreading the disease.
Other vampires with whom he traded blood or shared a meal, on the other hand, would not be as lucky. They were all doomed—instantly, unequivocally, without exception. Until now…
Could Julie really be the miracle he’d waited centuries to find? There had to be some way to gain her trust and become privy to her secrets—but it had to be soon. A cure was useless if it came too late to save Georgia’s life.
“You know it’s more than need,” Georgia said quietly. “You know I love you. Don’t you?”
“I hope so.” Christian crossed the room to sit beside Georgia on the couch. He brushed back a loose strand of hair and then took hold of her hand. “You’re not really giving up on us, are you? You can’t tell me you’re ready for your life to be over yet.”
Georgia shook her head. “Of course I’m not. I don’t know that anyone ever is really ready.”
“I’m not asking about anyone; I’m asking about you. At least promise me that you won’t do anything foolish. Please, darling. I’m working on something that…” He trailed off. What could he say to encourage her, without giving anything away?
“That…?” Georgia prompted.
“Nothing. Never mind. Let’s keep it a surprise, shall we? I don’t want to say anything until I’m sure.”
“Christian…”
“Oh, very well. I won’t bore you with the details, but I think I’ve found something that may help to keep your strength up, a sort of…a sort of tonic, if you will. It’s not yet ready for you to try, but I’m very optimistic about it. Promise you’ll hold on a little while longer. I can’t have you giving up on me—not when we’re this close. I need your word you’ll keep fighting for as long as you can.”
Georgia closed her eyes, her exhaustion plain in every line of her body. “Promise me,” he urged again.
She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. “I am sorry, Christian. Truly I am. I will try my best, for your sake. But I just don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
“It’s most unfair,” Christian complained. “You bring me here. You set me a task, and then do nothing but hinder me as I attempt to carry out your orders. Now you worry me into thinking that ’twill all be for naught.”
“What help can I give you?” Georgia replied sadly. “When I can no longer even help myself?”
“Well, to start with, you can leave off complaining about all the time I spend with Julie.”
“Oh, ridiculous. When have I ever done that?”
“Just a little while ago. And, I’ll ask you again, if you know a better way to reach her, to gain her trust, then by all means tell me.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know yet, that’s why I’m asking. What weaknesses might she have? With whom would she share her confidences? You must have learned something useful; you were here for weeks before me.”
“And you’ve been here for months,” Georgia pointed out. “How much have you to show for it? It’s like I told you. These twins of Conrad’s are the oddest of creatures. The boy cares for naught but ferals and fairytales while the girl apparently prefers the company of humans over all others. Up until recently, she didn’t even reside in the mansion. She’d chosen to live over the garage—with one of the gate guards, if you please—as though she herself were no more than a servant.”
“One of the guards?” Christian frowned. How was it possible he hadn’t known this? “This is exactly the type of information I’m talking about! Which one is he? Why is she no longer with him? Did she tire of him? Or did Conrad interfere?”
“Who knows?” Georgia said with a shrug. “He no longer works here, so I doubt you know him. Conrad dismissed him shortly before your arrival, supposedly at Julie’s request, if the rumors are to be believed. However, I’ve also heard it said that Julie wanted Conrad to turn her lover, and that was the reason he’d been sent away. Who knows which rumor is correct? It’s possible both are wrong.”
Christian laughed bitterly. “Conrad refused to turn him? Why am I not surprised?”
Georgia shook her head. “No. It was he who did not wish to be turned, or so it was said. He has a young child apparently, and in the end he chose to remain human for his sake.”
“I see. So this child is his weakness, obviously. And he, in turn, may well be Julie’s weakness—or a way to gain her trust. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I had not thought of it in those terms, but I suppose you’re correct.” She sighed—a sad, forlorn and wistful sound if ever Christian had heard one. “Love does seem to delight in making us vulnerable.”
“Where can I find this former guard…what’s his name?”
“Find him? You cannot find him. He is to be left strictly alone—Conrad’s orders. Everyone is to keep their distance from the man or face his wrath. To that I’ll add my own orders. I forbid you to pursue this matter any further. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly so.” Christian quickly sealed her mouth with a kiss—in part to put a stop to their arguing, in part to conceal his own confusion. For practically the first time since his turning, she’d given him a direct order that was not backed up by any level of compulsion. Was it an oversight on her part, or a disturbing new symptom? Was she growing too weak to compel him?
Whatever the reason, Christian was suddenly free to do whatever he liked. And that was one order he had no intention of following.
Conrad was traversing the upstairs hallway, on his way back to his own suite, when the sound of a car door closing reached his ears. He paused at the top of the stairs, very near to the place where he had once stood with Armand, watching through the stained glass window as yet another of his lovers departed.
Then as now, he consoled himself with the thought that this was only a temporary separation. Or so he hoped. One rarely knew with any certainty, this side of the grave, when “goodbye” might not mean forever. Conrad had guessed wrong too many times, and in both directions, to ever truly trust his luck again.
“Au revoir, mon ami,” he murmured all the same, watching as Armand cast one, last backward glance at the house before disappearing into the cab. “Hurry back.”
It disturbed Conrad that Armand should choose to leave so close to dawn, but it didn’t really surprise him. He had expected as much. The obvious conclusion was that Armand was leaving now in order to avoid another confrontation with Julie. In all likelihood, he would not travel far tonight. He’d probably booked a hotel somewhere close by where he planned to sleep through the day before journeying on after nightfall.
Conrad could only hope he’d made the right decision in letting Armand go, just as he hoped he was making the right decision now by choosing not to press Georgia for more information.
She’d looked eaten up by worry tonight. Her heart had been pounding in a most distressing manner. And, yet, when he questioned her about her relationship with Christian, she’d seemed honestly surprised. Conrad judged it unlikely she was lying on that subject. Perhaps the problem was something she had not wanted to discuss in front of Christian?
Conrad had been aware of the younger man, waiting just a room away, hanging on their every word. It was for that reason, more than anything else, that he’d held his own tongue.
He could force the information from her, if he had to, but he hoped it would not come to that. The ill will engendered by such heavy-handed tactics was rarely ever wort
h the information he gained. No, much better to let her come to him. He’d have the whole story from her eventually, one way or another.
When the cab, with its precious cargo, finally disappeared from sight, Conrad turned away from the window. As he resumed his trek down the hallway, his thoughts returned to Georgia. What had been going on in that head of hers tonight?
“If only fate had not conspired against us. If only we had not been separated!”
It had surprised him to hear her talk that way. And it troubled him. Not because he’d never shared the sentiment. Indeed, there had been many times over the course of his life when he’d wished the same thing. But, of the two of them, Georgia had always been the more pragmatic. He’d been certain she’d long since put such useless longings behind her.
Chapter Eight
Britannia
Early Twelfth Century
“You’re looking unusually pensive tonight,” Georgia said as she and Quintano lay abed one evening, shortly after dusk. “Is there aught bothering you?”
“I’ve been pondering something you said,” he replied with a shrug.
Georgia’s eyes tracked the motion of his shoulders as they rose and fell. Her thoughts grew heated as she recalled how his body had moved against hers when they’d made love. Just the thought of it had her body yearning for more. She pulled her thoughts back with an effort. “Indeed? Well that will never do! Whatever I said to put such a frown upon your face, I recant it immediately.”
Quintano smiled. “Nay. That you shall not. For I will always prefer to hear the truth from you, no matter how unpalatable it may be.”
“As you will. So then what is this truth that you find so unpalatable?”
“You told me that my mistress was unlikely to consider my mission here a failure since, by killing Edwin—the man she’d sent me to meet—I unwittingly gave her exactly what she’d wanted all along, control of his nest, the expansion of her empire and a foothold here on this island.”
