Beyond the Night

by Thea Devine

  “When you’re done,” Rob said, “we’ll go for a walk.”

  London at sundown was magical. The gaslights were lit. People rushed everywhere. Hansom cabs and drays maneuvered around each other and the passersby crossing the streets. Shouts, curses, conversation.

  Something about it reeked of normalcy and belied the idea that vampires existed anywhere in the city.

  “But they are everywhere,” Rob said, as if he’d read her mind. “Any one of these people could turn on you in an instant, tear out your throat, and you’d be dead.”

  “Charming thought,” Rula muttered. He saw vampires everywhere. If she believed that, and she felt that vulnerable, she’d be living a life of doubt and suspicion until the day she died.

  What kind of life would that be?

  “Life with me,” Rob said softly.

  Surely she hadn’t heard him correctly. “You mean a life focused on death every day, all day, all the time.”

  “God, I hope not.”

  They walked in silence for a bit.

  “Can the Vraq live a normal life?” she asked at length.

  He shrugged. “Probably not. We live how we can as we can. One accepts it or one doesn’t. It is the way it is.”

  “Will it ever end?”

  “Vampires are eternal. And so we must be vigilant in our turn.”

  “And when you die . . . ?”

  “Our children—”

  “A generation removed.”

  “It’s true. But there will be the children of this generation and others to take on that burden. Our history proves it. However our task now is Charles. Period.”

  Silence fell. Always Charles. Always a task. The Vraq never rested, never stopped. She felt like bolting, but there was nowhere to go and she’d never felt more alone than at this moment.

  Come . . .

  The word felt like an arrow aimed straight into her brain, and she stopped abruptly and looked at Rob with wide eyes.

  “What was—” she started to say, then suddenly she and everyone within sight dropped to the ground, moaning in pain.

  Rob grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. “Rula! Listen to me. Rest your forehead against mine.” He tilted her head to touch his. “Rula—look at me.” His tone had an urgency she’d never before heard from him. “Rula—focus on me.”

  She barely heard him, the pain was so intense.

  “Me, Rula—me—” He positioned his forehead against hers, tapping her cheek to draw her attention to his eyes and his words. “Rula . . .“ Her eyes started to roll. “Now—”

  He closed his eyes and mentally pushed. Hard. Erecting a wall to deflect the ceaseless arrows, the ruthless delving.

  Charles. It had to be. As they’d surmised. Who else would target Rula? No surprise he was alive somewhere, somehow. But this mental attack—this was a new weapon in his arsenal, damn the bastard.

  It didn’t stop either. The mental wall was not a deterrent. Those tendrils kept seeking a way up, over, and around it. It took every ounce of Rob’s own cunning and strength to ward off Charles’s mind-probing attack.

  Dirty bastard. But it meant he was somewhere close. Somewhere they could get to him. He made certain Charles comprehended that they were coming for him, he and Rula.

  Find me first.

  Oh, we will.

  It was like jousting. The tendrils moved one way, Rob blocked. They curled another way, Rob feinted. He walled out Charles every way he could think of as Charles tried fruitlessly to press his way into Rula’s mind.

  I will have her.

  I don’t think so.

  Rob sensed Charles was getting tired. He was not only expending all this energy trying to reach Rula and get around Rob’s wall, he was also holding half of London hostage in appalling brain pain.

  He didn’t have enough power to keep doing both. If he released them, he would release Rula because their pain and immobility was tied to hers.

  And Rob knew it.

  Bastard.

  DO it, you son of a bitch.

  Charles wasn’t ready to let go yet. Rob felt it and wondered how long he himself could hold on in this supernatural duel. He concentrated all his power on keeping Charles’s probing tendrils away from Rula as he supported her in his arms.

  Just concentrate on that. Keep Rula safe.

  He felt Charles weakening. Those passersby who had been felled by him were slowly coming out of their trances, still bound by the pain and utterly confused as to what had happened.

  “Good girl. It’s almost over,” Rob whispered.

  Never over.

  It was true—Charles would never give up. This was going to be a protracted battle for Rula, and it was no use begging for mercy. He meant to torture and kill her and present Dominick and Senna with her bones.

  But just now, his grip on her mind diminished with every awakening passerby who’d got caught in his mind-probe web.

  The pain was gone. His powers were weakening. Rob felt it as Charles futilely kept probing at the wall Rob had erected. Then, slowly, the tendrils slipped away and Rula was free.

  She felt as if she’d been hypnotized. Rob’s forehead still rested against hers, he held her tight, and he was softly murmuring words she couldn’t understand.

  It was over but she could see people still milling around, trying to figure out what had happened, why they’d wound up on the ground, writhing in pain.

  From afar, they saw that the authorities had the same questions; they were weaving through the remaining crowd, pausing to interview people at random.

  “We have to go,” Rob whispered. “We don’t want to answer any questions.”

  They slipped into the crowd and slid deftly around those still discussing the strange occurrence. Too many had been involved in the incident. They couldn’t find a single street where people hadn’t been affected as they made their way to Mirya’s.

  Only the alleyway was empty when they finally, thankfully got there.

  Mirya was waiting for them.

  “He got to you too, didn’t he?” Rob guessed.

  “Anyone within distance.”

  “Ah, but what distance? He’s close, isn’t he?”

  Mirya set down the teapot and a couple of cups. “He’s close.”

  “You took more than that from what happened, didn’t you?”

  Mirya nodded. “He’s furious, and helpless.” She stopped for an instant as that registered. “I sensed helpless.”

  Rob thought about it for a moment. “Mind probe is not a vampire power, so his feeling helpless could mean—”

  “He has diminished vampire powers and found a way to compensate,” Mirya said. “But this—this is extreme and something not instantly at his command. This has taken time for him to develop and control.”

  “So we can infer—”

  “He has been in one place for a very long time,” Mirya concluded.

  “He’d have needed that time to heal,” Rula added. “Dominick is still certain as stones he’d killed him, wouldn’t even listen to any possibility he’d survived.”

  “Well, we now know for sure he’s alive, but not in what kind of shape,” Rob said. “But we can deduce one thing—if he’s resorted to mind probes and tricks, he probably doesn’t have full use of his body. Which means his powers as well.”

  Rob looked at Rula. “Did you get any idea of what he wanted of you?”

  “I heard the word come just before you took over. Could he possibly get to me that way?”

  Rob shook his head. “I hope not.”

  “If he can do none of these things,” Mirya put in, “then—”

  “He can’t use his body at all,” Rob finished.

  “Which gets us nowhere,” Rula said. “If he is proficient at that mind probe, in theory he could touch
anyone anywhere and make them do his bidding.”

  “Which he did, didn’t he?” Rob said. “All those people . . . But—” He looked at Mirya and she nodded. “I find it curious you haven’t yet asked how I held him at bay.”

  “That was coming,” Rula muttered. “I still haven’t recovered from this afternoon, if you want to know the truth.”

  “Yes,” Mirya said. “Of course you haven’t. As Rob told you, there are other powers, some known, some unknown. Like mental powers. That is how Rob held Charles off. That is how you will outwit Charles when he comes after you again.”

  “How? He nearly crippled me, and hundreds of other people.”

  “It is already in your grasp, it is part of your makeup,” Mirya said. “But I can see, you are still distressed by all the day’s events. There’s time enough—”

  “There is no time. What if he comes at me tonight?”

  “You’ll know what to do now,” Mirya said calmly.

  Rob, who’d been sitting quietly listening to this, said, “I’ll stay with you.”

  Rula caught her breath. Stay with her how? By her side, in the room, or in her bed—could he read her mind?

  “If I sleep, he could—” she murmured.

  “He won’t,” Rob said.

  “You won’t let him.”

  “You won’t,” Rob said gently. “Lie down.” He pushed her onto the narrow bed. He looked at Mirya, as if daring her to say something, then he slipped in next to Rula and wrapped his arms around her. “Mirya and I will keep you safe.”

  The problem was, with him beside her like that, she sensed a different kind of danger. Man-to-woman danger. The kind for which Mirya had not prepared her.

  If a man tells you he’s been watching you, waiting for you, if he protects you and kisses you and covets you—and winds up in bed with you—what does all that mean, in the realm of fighting vampires?

  More to the point, what did it mean to her to have his solid, muscular body pressed against hers so possessively? To feel the heat of him, the heft of him, his restive movements, the tightly restrained hunger in him. He’d watched her all this time. She’d felt a connection the first time she’d noticed him. She’d been raised in innocence and squalor. Why didn’t she know by now what all women knew? Why had she never had a man?

  What did she do about the intense little darts attacking her vitals?

  He was holding himself more tightly than she. The hours passed wrapped in exquisite tension.

  Mirya slept.

  Rula felt the infinitesimal movements of his body seeking hers, his lips brushing her forehead, her cheek. her lips . . . “Rula,” he breathed, and she answered him mutely by lifting her head so he could ease his mouth over hers.

  Then her life began.

  He cradled her jaw as he rooted in her mouth. “Shhh,” he murmured as she responded with pleasure. Shhh because Mirya was steps away and he was supposed to be protecting Rula. She liked this so much better. The possessive kisses, the subtle undulation of his body against hers, the trickle of wet between her legs.

  More of this. The heat and wet shut out everything but the pleasure. It was as if they were cocooned in the rickety little bed, in a world where vampires didn’t exist. Couldn’t exist because they together were invincible.

  “More,” she whispered, she knew there was more, his hand rested on her hip, moving toward her thigh, and she felt this yearning need to bare her body to him. But then there was the impenetrable obstacle of the rags she wore.

  He stiffened suddenly, and immediately the air around them felt charged.

  “Gird yourself,” he mouthed in her ear as he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. “He’s searching. He’s coming . . . now.”

  Ru-u-ula—come to me. . . .

  The tendrils whispered around her consciousness.

  Ru-u-la . . . I’m waiting . . .

  She brushed them away.

  He allowed it because he was easing his way into her mind slowly, with unusual patience. He didn’t like that she could push his tendrils out of the way so easily. But then, he was exhausted from the afternoon’s first foray trying to penetrate her mind.

  Why he’d taken down everyone in the surrounding area with her, he didn’t understand. Maybe it was just a blast of power he couldn’t control. He had to fine it down, learn to pour all his energy into her. Catch her when she was most vulnerable. Such as when she slept.

  He didn’t expect resistance. Or the dismissive sweeping away of the tendrils. He probed harder, pushing her.

  She moved restively, and he pushed again.

  Let me in, Ruuula. . . .

  She resisted, and he felt his temper rising. This was not supposed to happen. This foray was to have been simple. A push, a probe, a winding and twining of his tendrils with her consciousness, and over.

  Ru-u-ula—I need you. . . .

  He felt the pushback, the walls being erected.

  Solely her, or did she have help, as she had this afternoon?

  Blast her. His tendrils could not thrust forcefully enough to break her resistance. She was prepared this time.

  He tamped down on his fury. It was his fault, he was tired. He could only do so much. But next time—she couldn’t be on alert every minute. At times she’d be open and unwary.

  This was only his second try. And he was exhausted. He wanted too much too soon.

  He’d waited this long. He’d take her yet. Soon. And her resistance now would make that moment all the sweeter.

  She slept tight against Rob’s chest as he held her through the night. Guarded her. Made certain that Charles did not slip into her consciousness.

  For the first time in her life she felt safe. Protected. Cared about.

  She turned to the heat of his body, seeking it, seeking him, his strength, his certainty. All the things she didn’t know, couldn’t know, until now.

  Now she had answers. She had family. She didn’t have to claim the monsters as her own. She didn’t even have to kill them. She could just be who she was, which was hard enough to comprehend.

  She wrapped her arms around him. It seemed natural, as if she now had the right to embrace him and all that he was because it all belonged to her.

  He held her just as tightly.

  He’d been waiting for her, he’d said. She wondered what he’d meant by that. If it was what she wanted him to mean.

  She felt his lips brush her forehead, and with that intimate touch she felt everything she’d been yearning for in a life filled with poverty and dross.

  She understood finally that intimacy transcended all that. Two people wound tightly together, the deep possessiveness of a kiss, and she felt for the first time that there was a future, that better things were to come.

  They’d deal with Charles. They’d vanquish the vampires. They could do anything, she and Rob.

  She leaned into him even more, absorbing his heat, and she slowly fell back to sleep.

  In the morning, she found herself hugging a pillow. Rob was up and gone, and Mirya was sitting with her usual cup of tea and stale bread, waiting until Rula wakened.

  “There’s fresh water in the ewer. I’ll refresh the tea.”

  Rula dutifully washed and took out the second of the three dresses that comprised her wardrobe and took her seat at the table as she had done for as long as she could remember.

  Today, however, she had the distinct feeling things were about to change. And Mirya knew it. Rula felt a wave of pure gratitude that Mirya had taken her that fateful day when Senna had decided to give her up.

  Mirya had not only kept her and nurtured her, she’d given her a safe haven—a hiding place among the street buskers, whom people rarely gave a second glance. A place Rula was comfortable. A way to earn money. A warm dinner every night. A veil over the truth of her parentage until she was read
y to hear it.

  Mirya had done everything right, and it still hadn’t prevented Rula from learning the truth or becoming a target of a ghoul bent on vengeance.

  Yet everything seemed as normal as always. The warm-water wash, the tea, the bread. Mirya bent over the table to pour, looking older every day. Scarily older, Rula thought, as she took a sip of tea. And Mirya had been old when she’d taken on the responsibility of raising her.

  “Where’s Rob?” Rula asked, to chase away those morbid thoughts.

  “He will return soon.” Mirya stared at her with hooded eyes.

  Rula knew that look. “What are you thinking?”

  “Do not use him,” Mirya said finally.

  Rula shook her head. “I would never . . .”

  “You don’t know. He seems like your rescuer now. What will he be afterward?”

  A man I could love.

  Rula stilled as the word crossed her mind. She had never given a thought to what her future would be before last night. She lived day to day with her sole goal to earn a ha’penny, a shilling. To have food, a place to live, a bed in which to sleep, some companionship.

  She’d never given one thought to the concept of love—perhaps until last night when she’d burrowed into Rob’s body, reaching for his heat.

  That moment, she understood there was something more to her hunger to be held, to feel close to someone. Emotions were involved that she was feeling for the first time. For a man. In herself.

  For Rob.

  Her eyes wide, she stared at Mirya.

  “Yes,” Mirya said. “This you never asked.”

  Nor could she now. What she felt for Rob was too new, too delicate to be defined. It was something to be held close, a beautiful secret, perhaps never to be revealed. Rob was that much older than she, and thus that much more experienced.

  She could not know what he felt, nor would she ever ask.

  It was enough he’d held her through the night, that he’d protected her from Charles. That she knew the taste of his kisses, the shape of his body, the sound of his breathing.

  That he would return.

  “Where is he?” she asked finally.