Fallen Embers

by P. G. Forte

  Conrad stiffened in surprise. That voice! It had to be imagination—a similarity in accent and tone and his own guilty thoughts combined—but it sounded so much like Georgia that his heart was wrung with longing.

  Then the door was thrust open and the woman herself appeared. Cloaked and hooded, she swept boldly into the room, while Gerald slouched in behind her with the imprint of her hand still red on his face. Beside Conrad, Kendrick shuddered in sudden anger. “What mischief is this?” He took a step forward, his hand raised. “That’s far enough.”

  The woman halted obligingly. “I bid you good evening, Uncle,” she murmured in lilting tones that caused Conrad’s breath to stall. Then she pushed back her hood to reveal golden hair and twinkling blue eyes and the very face that had haunted his dreams for centuries. Her eyes found his. Her smile grew bright—wider, warmer, more genuine. “And my lord Quintano. How very pleased I am to see you looking so well.”

  Conrad tried to reply, only to find his mouth had dropped open in astonishment. “How?” he demanded as he strode across the room to where she stood. Taking her by the waist, he lofted her into the air, still staring at her incredulously and repeating the same question over again, “How? How is this possible?”

  Georgia threw back her head and laughed in delight as he swung her around in a circle. Her hands clutched at his arms, her touch reassuringly real. After a moment, she sobered. “Put me down, good sir,” she murmured, cheeks flushed with heat. “Before you embarrass us in front of these others. We are not alone after all.”

  Conrad returned her feet to the ground immediately, but he kept his hands clasped tight around her waist. “Georgia…all these years…I thought you dead!”

  Tears sparkled in her eyes as she raised a hand to frame his face. “As did I you—for so, so long.”

  A soft noise at his back recalled Conrad to his surroundings. He turned to find Kendrick eyeing him warily. “My lord?”

  “Is there a chamber somewhere about that I might make use of?” Conrad demanded impatiently.

  Kendrick blinked in surprise. “A…a chamber?”

  “Yes. I wish to speak privately with…” Georgia’s earlier words registered and Conrad glanced at her quickly in confusion before returning his gaze to Kendrick. “Your…niece?”

  “I see.” Kendrick’s voice was toneless, his expression grim and hopeless. “Yes, my lord. There is a room at the far end of the corridor.” He indicated the direction with a nod. “It is rarely used anymore. Perhaps that will suffice?”

  As he spoke, Kendrick’s gaze drifted furtively toward the hearth. His hand shook with suppressed emotion. Conrad swore softly. If he did not do something to avert it, he suspected the next hour would likely see the entire household slaughtered and the building in flames.

  Conrad gave Georgia’s hands a quick squeeze. “Just give me one moment,” he said. Then he stalked back across the room to where Kendrick stood.

  “I will ensure the safety of this nest,” Conrad said, pitching his voice low, so that only Kendrick could hear him. “Is that understood? This changes nothing between us.” It had changed everything else, however. Joy sang in Conrad’s veins. Georgia—alive! It was a miracle.

  “Yes, my lord,” the older man replied, visibly mocking him. “Of course.”

  Conrad growled. “I have given you my word. But perhaps the word of an Invitus is not enough for you, is it?”

  Kendrick made no answer.

  “Very well then. Since we are both unable to trust one another, I am left with no choice.”

  Kendrick stiffened as Conrad seized him by the shoulders. Allowing the power to rise within him, Conrad focused his intention upon the other man’s mind, and bent him to his will.

  “As your master, I hereby forbid you to cause harm to any member of this household—yourself included—or to do damage to anything else that belongs to me. Nor shall you allow someone else to do so in your stead. Indeed, I will go even further. Were you even to suspect that such damage was likely to occur, I charge you to do everything in your power to prevent it. Am I understood?”

  Conrad could feel the internal struggle the other man waged. He waited patiently, well aware what the outcome must be.

  Eventually, Kendrick’s will gave way. “Aye, Master,” he answered in a voice that was barely audible, thick with despair and impotent fury. “I hear and I obey.”

  Conrad sighed. He despised the need for such coercion. “I know there is nothing I can say now that will convince you,” he said as he gave Kendrick’s shoulders a gentle shake. “But only wait and see. I shall not fail you.”

  Conrad turned reluctantly away. He returned to where Georgia was waiting for him and took hold of her hand. “Come with me.”

  Just before they reached the door, Conrad paused. “You. Gerald,” he said, addressing the younger vampire who still stood there, frozen in wide-eyed confusion. “Douse that fire.” Conrad nodded toward the hearth. “It pleases me not.”

  “It’s good to see you again, my friend,” Georgia said once they found themselves alone.

  Conrad turned away from the door he’d just bolted to find her smiling warmly at him. The sight of her, alive and well, took his breath away. Still, he shook his head reproachfully as he crossed to where she stood. “It is beyond good to see you. But, surely, we did not used to call each other ‘friend’?”

  “Did we not?” Georgia’s gaze slid away from his. For all that she allowed him to take her into his arms, and then stood uncomplaining within his embrace, there was a rigidity to her stance that did not feel like acquiescence. “Indeed, it saddens me to hear you say so. For I’d hoped always to count you as a friend.”

  “You may count on me for anything,” Conrad promised, doing his best to ignore the odd tension that was rising between them, as though the beasts that dwelled within each of them were circling each other, sizing one another up, searching for some weakness to exploit. “And I shall always be your friend. But, make no mistake. I shall never cease from wanting to be more than friends—as once we were.”

  As he spoke, he twisted one hand into her hair to anchor her in place. Then, he lowered his mouth to her neck. A swift bite, a rush of venom and her body spasmed against him. She was breathing hard when he let her go. But at least the awful trembling had stopped.

  “Ah, that’s more like I remember.” Smiling in satisfaction, he feasted his eyes on the sight of her—the startled look in her darkened eyes, the slight flush on her cheeks, the fangs that gleamed between her parted lips.

  Georgia snarled softly. “More,” she repeated, her expression changing to one of desire. “Yes. I, too, remember.” Then she leaned in close and claimed his neck as well.

  Conrad groaned in response to the sharp, delicious pain, the building pressure, the searing heat as it roared through his veins. A slight taste of her lingered still on his tongue, releasing a flood of memories. How long had it been since he’d known this kind of joy?

  He thought he’d been living his highest truth, honoring her memory, and living each day to the fullest. And yet, how could he have done so? It was clear to him now that he’d walled off his heart, when he’d lost her, to spare himself pain. At best, he’d been living half a life.

  “Ah, Georgia. What sorcery has conjured you here?” He lifted her into his arms and quickly carried her across the room. “I’d swear I was dreaming,” he said as he set her down on the edge of the long wooden table. “Were it not for the fact my dreams have never been so pleasant.”

  Smiling playfully, Georgia lay back upon the table’s oaken surface. “Come to me then. Surely, there must be some way by which we might prove to each other that we do not dream?”

  She looked so beautiful lying there. Her hair had come loose; it fanned across the wood like a sea of flame. Her face was flushed, her lips red, and small rivulets of blood continued to seep from the wounds on her neck. Th
e delectable scent filled the air, teasing and burning within him, feeding his hunger, driving him mad.

  Unless he was mad already? In a lifetime filled with impossibilities, where unimaginable horror had become commonplace, how could he trust this miracle to be real?

  He braced his palms upon the table and caged her between his arms. Leaning in, he ravished her mouth, then her neck using lips and teeth and tongue. He groaned weakly, his knees on the verge of giving way when, after a moment, she began to do the same to him. Then, by unspoken agreement, they both went to work, freeing each other from their clothes, discovering more flesh to taste and tease, more skin to score with their fangs.

  Finally, Georgia wrenched her mouth free of him. She hooked her legs behind his thighs and urged him close. “Now,” she ordered in breathless tones. “Take me now.”

  Conrad reared back in alarm. His control was slipping—he could feel it in the sizzle of his blood, the tension in his bones. He could no longer differentiate between man and monster. As both sides of his nature warred within him, he could no longer find the line that kept them separate. Both sides sought to dominate. Both were eager to claim this prize that had been set before them. He would not be ordered about, not by anyone. And yet…he wanted nothing more than to give in to all her demands.

  They gazed at each other for a long moment. Georgia watched him through slitted eyes. Then very deliberately she tipped back her head and bared her throat. And, just like that, the contest was decided.

  Conrad fell upon her at once, sinking his fangs into her neck an instant before he plunged into her body. Each action was sweet perfection, all on its own. Together, however, they were sublime.

  As the air filled with the sounds and the scents of their lovemaking, he reveled in the feeling of finally being at peace with himself, whole, and once again complete.

  Afterward, they aided each other in straightening out their clothing. While Georgia tugged her hair back into its braid, Conrad glanced ruefully at the room around them. “This was not quite the setting I had in mind when I requested privacy.” They appeared to be in some sort of council room, though he doubted it had been used as such since Edwin’s time. It wore an air of stale neglect even deeper and more pronounced than the keep’s main hall. At least the hearth was cold.

  There was very little furniture in the room. There was a dusty chest just inside the door, upon which he’d laid his sword, this table and a set of matching chairs—high-backed and ornately carved, their leather seats in various stages of decay. The room offered very little in the way of comfort. Perhaps that had been Kendrick’s intention. “I can see that, in all future dealings with your uncle, I shall have to be much more specific about my requirements.”

  Georgia laughed softly. “Authority becomes you.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “What is that you say?”

  “There is an aura of confidence about you now. An air of command that was not there before. You wear them well.”

  “I’m pleased you think so.”

  He leaned in once again and framed her face with his hands. He pressed his lips to hers once more, thrilling to the remembered taste of her. To have her back again was indeed a miracle, and all the sweeter for having arrived unlooked for. But though his heart still overflowed with the wonder of it all, his mind was plagued with questions and doubts.

  “Tell me,” he said, as he pulled away again. “How is it you seem to know so much about what has been happening with me, while I did not even know you were alive? How did you survive the storm? What miracle brought you here tonight? Was it by design, or has destiny once again caused our paths to cross?”

  “Oh, dear.” Georgia’s expression turned rueful. “So many questions. Which shall I attempt to answer first, I wonder?” She shook her head. “There is no great mystery to my survival. The ship was fair damaged—aye—and I’ll admit I spent most of the remainder of the voyage anticipating my imminent demise, but—”

  “The ship was not lost? You were not swept overboard as I was?”

  She shook her head. “You secured me far too well. Indeed, in the time it took me to free myself and get to the rail so that I might look for you, you were already gone. I could only assume you had drowned.”

  Conrad’s chest felt tight. He pulled one of the chairs closer and sat—gingerly, ever mindful of the creaking leather. “Did you not even think to search for me beyond that single glance?”

  Georgia’s eyes opened wider. For a moment, she stared speechless at him. “Where would you have had me begin this search?” she asked at last. “You could have been anywhere beneath the waves. The ship was being tossed about. It would have been foolish to stay any longer.”

  “I would not have given up so easily,” Conrad said, holding her gaze with his. “I would never have stopped searching for you—not if there had been the smallest reason to hope.”

  “I know you think that now.” Tears gleamed in Georgia’s eyes. She reached a hand toward him, but then let it drop. “And, indeed, you cannot imagine how many times I’ve asked myself, over the years, if I could not have done more. But you speak of hope… What if you had no hope—what then? I called to you. I did. ’Til my voice was spent. If only you’d responded. If only there’d been one sign…”

  “I understand. But, all the same—”

  Georgia slammed her fist on the table and glared at him. “No. You do not understand. And you shall not destroy this night for us with useless recriminations. Rather than heap guilt upon both our heads for all the ways in which we’ve failed one another, let us rejoice that we are both still alive—which brings me to another of your questions.”

  “Your lack of surprise at finding me here?”

  “You may call it that, if you wish. Though I find it surpassing strange that the answer has not already occurred to you, for you have hardly kept to the shadows. Did you imagine that not a whisper of your great conquests would reach us here? ’Tis not the case, I assure you. Everyone has heard and is in awe of your exploits—whether they admire you for them or not.” She paused and shook her head. “I must confess that when first I heard of your mistress’s death and learned the name of her successor, I was furious. I cursed this unknown ‘Quintano’ who dared bear your name, who had seized the place that should have gone to you. All the old wounds were reopened and my grief flared anew.”

  “Ciccia,” Conrad murmured softly, touched by the sadness in her tone. He took hold of her hand and squeezed it tight. “Ciccia mia, don’t. It’s in the past. Let us leave it there.”

  “You’re right, of course,” Georgia agreed, smiling in what might have been an effort to shake off the melancholy mood that seemed to have settled over the room. “And, indeed, it has been a great while since I felt that way. For, the more I heard about this…this interloper, for so I thought him—you—at the time, the more I began to wonder if there was not another explanation. Perhaps I’d been wrong in thinking you dead. Wonder begat hope and hope belief. And here we are tonight. So, no, I cannot say I was surprised to find you here, but I am grateful beyond measure to finally see you again, and to know that my fondest hopes are realized.”

  Conrad could think of no answer to make to that, so he kissed her hand. But, once again, the taste of her flesh called up memories. Needs he’d thought long extinguished—or, at least, moderately under control—came blazing back to life. Even though he’d only just had her, his body still ached with desire. But he would control himself. The next time they made love it would be within the proper setting.

  After all this time, they ought to be in a palace and, in his mind, he cursed Kendrick once again for sending him here instead.

  “Talk to me about Kendrick. Is he truly your uncle?”

  Georgia’s expression darkened. “Why should he not be? It is quite a common story. We were born into the same family but now we are sworn enemies. Fortunately for me, I have always bee
n the stronger. Elsewise, I’ve no doubt, he would have gladly killed me long ago. I am Invitus, and he cannot forgive the atrocities I was forced to commit in my youth.”

  “And you do not feel the same animosity toward him?”

  She shrugged. “My personal feelings are not important. I have chosen not to kill where there is no need, but I make no promise regarding what the future may hold. I will say this, however; I do not believe he is long for this world. Not if my master has aught to say about it.”

  Conrad fell silent as he digested this information. “I have given Kendrick my word that I would protect this nest. I intend to visit your master tomorrow and acquaint him with that fact.”

  “Have you?” Georgia glanced away, mouth tightening as she said, “Indeed, I am sorry to hear it.”

  “Why sorry?”

  “Because ’tis folly. You speak of setting yourself against Rupert, for no good reason. Why not use this opportunity to secure him as an ally?”

  “It is not for ‘no reason’. ’Tis to protect the lives of those he threatens.”

  “Your loyalty is commendable. But sacrifices must sometimes be made. Will you tell me there is no one you have killed, since your rise to power? Come, I think we both know that is not so.”

  Conrad nodded. “I have killed, yes. But only those who have deserved it. Or those whose continued existence would have put all the rest at risk.”

  “And can you not see that this is very much the same?”

  “No, I cannot. Are you suggesting I hand this entire nest over to your master so that they might be slaughtered? Your uncle included?”

  Georgia growled impatiently. “Do you imagine Kendrick cherishes any familial feelings for me? I promise you, he does not. But even if he did, I would still urge you to consider the greater good. This nest is small and weak. What do they add to either the strength or prestige of your House? Why, just look at the manner in which you acquired them! There are those who would say they deserve to die for having dared to take up arms against you in the first place.”