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This Time Tomorrow

Page 26

by Bailey, Tessa


  The conversation she’d overheard played on an echoing loop in her mind.

  Once again you’ve come to bargain for my daughter’s life, have you? Maybe trade another year of your life away in my prison?

  Words from her own mother’s mouth. Words that made acid rise in her throat, the hair standing up on the back of her neck. What did that mean? Elias had bargained with Inessa for her life? He’d gone there of his own free will?

  That alone would have been enough to riddle her with anguish, if she wasn’t distracted by the why. If Elias had traded a year in the slayer prison to keep her safe, then…he must have struck that bargain with Inessa in Vegas.

  The video footage from the chapel rolled behind her eyelids.

  Elias pressed to the door, holding it closed, denying his primal instincts to feed.

  Oh God.

  A wail conjured itself in her belly. Her entire body ached under the pressure of keeping it sealed tight. Don’t break.

  There were too many realizations hitting her at once, but chief among them was…she and Elias were not safe here. They were, in fact, in very serious danger.

  My mother is not who I believed.

  Or rather, she’d ignored her intuition on the matter. She’d made excuses for not only warning signs that her mother was treacherous, but she’d endured proof of her mother’s duplicity by succumbing to her affections one minute, then enduring a beating ordered by the woman the next.

  She wanted to look at Elias over her mother’s shoulder, but forced her eyes to remain closed, instead. This meeting would have an important outcome and in that moment, knowing the two most important people in her life had kept secrets from her, Roksana vowed the outcome would be hers to decide—and hers alone.

  One mistake could cost her everything.

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” she breathed, the woman’s perfume nowhere near as pleasant as she’d once found it. No longer cool and elegant, it was blade sharp and aloof. “I come to you again as a failure. But this time I am humble. This time I will not spout bullshit and tell you I am the best. Clearly I am not.”

  “Once again you need to be broken down and rebuilt in my image.” Inessa stroked a hand roughly down the back of Roksana’s head, rings catching in her hair. “Your faults do not rest solely on your shoulders, daughter. After all, I trained you. I will take some of the blame for your shortcomings and repair them as only I can.”

  “Yes.” Heat scalded the backs of her eyelids, anguish roiling in her stomach, eroding the lining. “I understand now why you took them from me.”

  The hand stroking her head paused, ever so briefly, but it was enough to confirm Roksana’s suspicions.

  Inessa was responsible for killing her friends.

  Inessa was responsible for Elias becoming a vampire.

  If he’d made a bargain to spare her life…then had her own mother originally intended to murder her, too?

  Bile rose in her throat and it took every reserve of her willpower not to scream down the night sky. “We have to learn hard lessons,” Inessa soothed. “It can be even harder sometimes to teach them. We can start now. Tonight. We can move forward now with a clean slate.”

  Inessa eased back, but kept Roksana glued to her side, turning as one to face Elias. If she noticed her daughter shaking in rage, she must have chalked it up to nerves or shame. And she would have been right. How blind and gullible she’d been. How much time she’d wasted stewing in misdirected hatred. The revelations were forming so fast, one after the other, it took a moment for Elias’s face to come into focus—and it gave away nothing.

  Roksana struggled to follow suit. To be strong.

  “We will end this here and now,” Inessa murmured in her ear. “Cut the tie of this unhealthy tether and we will begin anew. With Tilda out of the way, we can claim her throne for ourselves. Play both sides as we choose, because only the dexterous survive. We will ride side by side into glory, just you and me. Victors of the uprising. This is all we’ve ever needed, isn’t it? Each other.”

  There is no right side in a war. Only profiteers.

  Her mother’s statement rippled through her consciousness. If she was responsible for Elias being Silenced, she had to be working with the vampires. She would actually hand over the names and locations of the North American slayers…to the vampires.

  Putting them all in jeopardy.

  Her own kind. Did Inessa even have a kind?

  Inessa pressed a stake into Roksana’s hand, distracting her from yet another devastating insight into her mother’s double life. She closed her fingers around it and a wrench twisted in her middle, making her want to heave. Still, Elias’s expression didn’t change. “You will have the strength this time, because I will be standing at your back, daughter.”

  Roksana nodded.

  Took a step forward in the snow.

  Elias blinked twice, his jaw hardening, the rare proof of sorrow from Elias cutting deep. So deep the wound might take decades to heal. It stopped Roksana in her tracks, her throat working heavily. With her free hand, she removed the red envelope from her coat pocket, handing it to Inessa without breaking eye contact with Elias. A line appeared between his brow as she gave over the envelope, but it erased just as quickly as it formed. “This I have done for you, Mother.”

  “Good daughter,” Inessa praised, pocketing the game piece with a smile, completely unaware Roksana’s heart was being ravaged by a pack of wolves. “In this, you have proven yourself worthy. Now sever the tie and begin anew.”

  The impatience was building in Inessa’s tone, forcing Roksana to take one more step forward. As soon as she was close enough to Elias, she would turn the stake on Inessa, the one who’d truly betrayed her. The one who’d held her in a maternal thrall, twisting Roksana’s emotions for her benefit. No longer. No longer.

  Not five feet away stood the vampire who she’d treated as an enemy. Yet he’d been her protector. Her ally. The man who would place her safety and health and happiness above all else, even if it meant being seen as the villain.

  He’d sacrificed a year of his life and in doing so, saved her own. Did he even remember making the deal with Inessa as his final human act?

  He must remember.

  He’d implied as much to Inessa, but he might have been told of his actions after the fact while imprisoned in Moscow.

  Either way, he’d kept all of this from her so it wouldn’t break her heart. And it would have. She could admit with total humility that it would have cracked her down the middle.

  Back when she’d been breakable.

  That wasn’t the case now. She had love flowing through her.

  Just a little closer and she could stand by his side.

  “Stop being a coward, Roksana!” Inessa shouted shrilly. “Do it and be done! Or I will slay you both!”

  Roksana took another step forward, her hand shaking around the stake she lifted, because even the pretense of hurting her husband was abhorrent.

  Elias noticed the tremor in her grip and his eyes softened.

  He pulled out his own stake, positioning the pointed tip over his heart.

  The breath evacuated Roksana’s lungs, the earth dropping out beneath her feet. “What are you doing?” she wheezed.

  But Elias was looking at Inessa, a sheen coating his eyes. “She brought you the envelope. My death marks her mission complete, no matter who does the deed. Vow she won’t be hurt once I’m gone.”

  Inessa didn’t hesitate. “I vow it.”

  “I’ve kept my word to you.” He pressed the stake firmly enough to his chest that it created an indent in his shirt. “Keep yours, Inessa.”

  “Elias, no,” Roksana heaved, debilitating terror robbing her voice of volume.

  When he transferred his gaze back to Roksana, such naked love for her swarmed there she lurched backwards, her balance obliterated. “I won’t make you choose. I won’t make you live with guilt or add to the pain,” he said in a hushed whisper, his eyes trying to comfort her even
while sacrificing his own life. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  Oh God, the wedding.

  He’d rushed the wedding for exactly this purpose, though she had no doubt—not a single one—that loving her had also played a large part.

  If something were to ever happen to me, I’d want you to have what’s mine.

  You’ll only need to put the credit card in your name.

  A low, keening sound left Roksana but Elias only reassured her with a curving of his mouth, the scar tugging at his upper lip. “This life might end here. But my love for you will continue on into the next. It’ll still be just as strong this time tomorrow.”

  At the words this time tomorrow, Roksana’s knees buried in the snow.

  He remembered.

  He’d remembered all along.

  It was like putting on a new pair of glasses, the lenses clean and clear. She could see everything so obviously—only now it could be too late. Elias had pretended not to remember that night in Vegas so he wouldn’t have to reveal Inessa’s treachery. All because she’d made her mother the keeper of her mental well-being. Hailed her as a hero, a wise leader, a noble warrior. When all along this man had been her silent hero, lurking in the wings.

  Loving her from afar.

  Elias raised the stake and closed his eyes. Time slowed to a crawl.

  With a scream exploding from deep in the pit of her belly, Roksana scrambled in the snow. Stake at the ready, she turned to Inessa, determined to plunge the weapon into her mother’s heart and stop Elias from sacrificing himself. Her mother was closer. There was no way she could reach Elias in time. Not when the stake already arced toward his chest. The pain of not calling out to him was vast, but she needed surprise on her side to fell Inessa.

  Fear made Roksana clumsy, however. And the passage of time was not what it should be. She lunged to her feet, but her boot slid back in the snow and down she went, her scream still echoing in the forest. A split second before she hit the ground again, she saw clearly one last time, the only option shining down on her like a beacon from the night sky.

  Repaying Elias’s sacrifice.

  It was the only way.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  With the impact of landing on her back reverberating through her limbs, Roksana lifted the stake as high as she could—and plunged it into her own stomach.

  A slice of cold was followed by unimaginable pain tearing through her nervous system. Not the pain of a beating or battered muscles, with which she was familiar.

  This was pain that wrought death.

  For a split second, she wondered if her own agony had turned the sky to billowing red fire. Or if her terror had set the surrounding trees aflame. But Elias’s earsplitting roar—proof that he was alive and hadn’t sacrificed himself—told Roksana her mate was responsible. Meaning he was alive. And she slumped under a bludgeoning of relief, even as blood burbled from her lips.

  His face came into view above her, contorted in horror. “No. No! Roksana, no.” He tore at his hair, her clothes, his eyes glowing so bright they nearly blinded her. Or maybe she was already going toward the light. “What the fuck did you do?”

  If she could have spoken around the blood filling her mouth, she would have joked that she’d hit an artery, but he probably wouldn’t have laughed. Thank God she could keep her good humor, even in death, da?

  “Oh Jesus, I can’t stop the bleeding. I can’t stop it!” Elias raged, the sky exploding with great mushroom clouds of ash and flame, sparks raining down around them with sizzling landings in the snow. “Roksana, please. God, please. Why did you do this? Why?”

  She reached for Elias’s hand where he’d wrapped it around the stake in her belly, bellowing his misery, visibly trying to psych himself up to pull it out. When their hands touched, he looked down at Roksana. Her beloved immortal was outlined by fire. Her eyes filled with tears, blurring his image, but based on the tortured sound he made, she knew he interpreted the message correctly. That her love for him was soul deep and enduring as time. That everything would be okay. That her love would be just as substantial this time tomorrow.

  You know what to do, she tried to communicate with her eyes.

  There was a good chance Silencing her wouldn’t work. Her injury was self-inflicted and the blood flowed from her like a river. Too fast? So fast.

  Elias would need to give her his venom, but there was never a guarantee one would wake up immortal. The ritual was flawed and had to be done carefully to have a chance to success. There was nothing careful about this, but what choice did she have? Seeing him die after the repeated sacrifices he’d already made on her behalf would have hurt worse.

  Roksana turned her head and coughed up a mouthful of blood and the pain started to ebb. She curled in on herself, clutching at the snow, following the line of her mother’s footsteps in the snow to where the woman fled at a dead run, arms thrown up to shield her from the overhead destruction, the red envelope clutched in her hand. And Roksana had enough pride left in her dying body to feel satisfaction that her final actions as a human being were of her own making. Not her mother’s. That she’d acted out of love, not poisonous vengeance or in the name of seeking approval.

  Black seeped in at the edges of her vision and she squeezed Elias’s hand tight, only noting vaguely that he’d removed the stake from her belly. It was probably for the best.

  Although having staked herself as a human and a vampire would give her serious bragging rights.

  Roksana knew she was trying to bury her fear, but with the life literally draining out of her, a whimper snuck out of her and anxiety of the unknown held her captive. Ginny had been required to drink from Jonas’s vein to complete the Silencing ritual, but her throat was full of her own blood. She’d never be able to get it down.

  Come on, come on. Don’t let this be the end.

  She would never regret stopping Elias from killing himself. Not when she was the reason he’d been turned into a vampire in the first place, but she wanted her lifetime with him. They hadn’t even been married a full twenty-four hours yet.

  Pressure at her back signaled Elias lying down in the snow behind her, his arms and legs wrapping around, his big body rocking her. “Don’t you fucking leave me, havoc wreaker. I love you. Don’t you leave me like this!”

  His fangs lanced her neck.

  There was no pain. Or maybe it was just so mild compared to the wound in her stomach that her body didn’t register it. But Elias’s hand on her chin, his forehead against her temple, told her he was drinking, his desperate sounds lurching the dying heart in her chest.

  Placing all of her trust and hope in the one person who’d ever deserved it, she let herself drift. Mist surrounded Roksana, rendering her weightless and suddenly she was barefoot in the snow, looking down from above at her bloody body cradled to Elias’s chest. Red spread like a flood, forming a great circle around them, the stake she’d embedded in her stomach tossed several yards away like it had offended Elias. All around them, the trees waved with flames, but she and Elias seemed to be in a protected sphere of energy, like even his unpredictable abilities wouldn’t dare touch the moment.

  Overhead, the flames in the sky parted, as if beckoning her through with a flare of moonlight. An unseen force pulled her upward and her body began to lack gravity, her toes leaving the spot where they’d buried themselves in the snow. But the pull toward the man howling for a second chance into her neck demanded her soul remain. Her heart demanded she remain and so she fought, screaming into the ether, bargaining for re-entry into her own body.

  Around her, the forest dissipated.

  For a long while, there was nothing but blackness, sorrow, the sound of lonely wind, no feeling anywhere. Nothing but a lost, weightless sensation. Floating. She had no human form, but love for Elias kept her rooted to earth, casting her down, down—

  She woke up struggling, snow crunching around her, her stomach clenching violently. Rolling over and rising onto her kne
es, she bore down on the pain, but it wouldn’t subside. Elias crawled to her in the snow, his face red and ravaged by grief, but there was hope dawning in his amber eyes. Oh yes, there was hope and its purity almost appeased her hunger.

  Almost.

  The flames died slowly around them, snow swirling in the night breeze, the pungent scent of burning wood mingling with Elias’s crisp smell. She could see every molecule of her breath in the air, count the ridges of every snowflake.

  Roksana opened her mouth to speak and fangs jabbed into her lower lip.

  It had worked, then.

  An elated sob escaped her. She wasn’t dead, but immortal. Never to be parted from her beloved. And she was starving. “Some of your blood was left inside me from last night after all.” A wave of hunger mowed through her belly. “Temnota moya,” she managed, the sound of his pulse coming to her as if through a bullhorn. “Please.”

  Elias made a choked sound and reached for Roksana, determination seeming to imbue his muscles with strength and life once more. His hands were purposeful as he pulled Roksana onto his lap, slinging her fatigued legs around his hips and guiding her mouth to his neck. “Drink from me, mate. Drain me if you have to, just don’t try to leave my side or this earth ever again. Swear it.”

  “I swear.”

  Their mouths met in a hard kiss, Elias’s arms banding Roksana to him like she could still be snatched away by fate. “You stabbed yourself,” he grated against her mouth, his expression wild. “You had no way of knowing it would work, Roksana. You gambled with the only thing I love, goddammit. Never again. Please, never again.”

  “You either.” A sob erupted from her mouth. “What you did for me…”

  “You pay the debt by existing. I love you.” He kissed her hard. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” She sniffed and reached into her pocket, holding up the endless list of names and addresses. “I gave Inessa a bunch of blank pieces of paper. We still have the game piece. Reward me for my cunning, vampire.”

 

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