Love Is Mortal

by Caroline Hanson

  His expression was so filled with menace, that even though he was chained up and could not hurt her, she had to stop herself from moving back a step. “I do not deal with you. Leave her body, then go and fetch your master.”

  “Cerdewellyn is…sleeping,” she said, letting him infer what he wanted. She saw his face go pale, felt the shock run through him; that Valerie’s body had indeed slept with Cerdewellyn. His grief and horror rolled out of him like a wave, but his expression stayed calm. Such control, she thought, and she knew that the control would have to go. She would break him.

  “I wanted to meet you, Lucaius. I have heard about you from everyone. You are the bogeyman I was told stories of when I was little. And Valerie, she talked of you too. I find it ironic that I must thank you for giving me this life. If it had not been for you, I would not be here.” Virginia wanted to touch him, wanted to cut him open and see inside of him, open his mind and rape out every memory, abusing it and him so that he was nothing but a shell: partial payment for all the wrongs he had ever committed.

  But patience was something she had learned. She had grown up watching Cerdewellyn, learning from him, how best to behave.

  Patience.

  “Tell me what scares you, and I will make it real,” she whispered, as though she were a courtesan asking him what filthy things he fantasized about. “I will punish you for the world. For my Cerdewellyn and the death of my people. For the death of the Others, and even for Valerie and the hurt you caused her.” Virginia stepped close, extending her hand, ready to touch his chest.

  “Touch me and I will bite your hand off.”

  She grimaced as though he had told a bad joke. “You cannot harm me. You are in too deep with the empath’s blood. Soon I will own you. You will not even be able to speak against me because I will have such a tight hold upon you.”

  Lucas laughed at her. “You think you have won because I drank her blood a few times? You know nothing of me and my strength.”

  “I know that I will take it. I know that I will make you drink my blood over and over again, and that a vampire is susceptible to empaths. That with repeated blood exchanges, the vampire can become enslaved. I know that I have you tied up in a dungeon with the ability to go nowhere. And I know that you will not hurt me. Not this body…not her. She did not know how you felt. But I know. As someone who has loved their entire life, I know. Hurt me and you hurt her. Kill this body, and she is gone forever. You would not do that even if you could.”

  “What did you do to her?” voice low and strained.

  “I ate her,” she laughed as his jaw clenched, “Not literally, but in every way that mattered, I have consumed her. Her body, her spirit, everything. She was very sad, Lucas. You weakened her. She did not have the strength to fight. I think she was relieved. She is buried deep inside of me, six feet below the surface and…happy. For she has left her reality behind.”

  She watched in satisfaction as he pulled against the cuffs. As if his reaction was to physically fight her words. She withdrew a knife from her robe. Wickedly sharp and honed to harm. Silver to burn. She showed it to him, and before he could blink, she slammed it into his stomach.

  She withdrew the knife, twisting it as she pulled it out, and he grunted, then gasped. “Does Cerdewellyn know you are down here playing torturer?”

  “He cannot harm you. He promised your empath.” She smiled chillingly. “But I have made no such promise. Where is the Sard?”

  “I do not know,” he said, and his body tensed for the pain that was surely coming.

  “I will rip you open,” she said dreamily. Virginia trailed the sharp points of the knife down his chest, leaving a narrow trail of his own black blood on his skin. “Shred you from the inside out. One day I will. I will make you pay for what you have done to me and mine. To Cerdewellyn, and all who have been cursed enough to encounter you. But for now, you may live. While Cer keeps his promise to Valerie, while we have need of your strength. I cannot hurt your body, not really, but we do not need your mind. You should think about what you have done. The people you have harmed and the lives cut short. How many people have you killed?” she asked, conversationally.

  She didn’t wait for an answer, but continued talking, tracing her fingers through the blood on his side, absently. “How many were never born because of you? You do not understand the gravity of your wickedness. But I can show you. Let’s start at the beginning shall we?” And she raised her finger to her mouth, sucking his blood, activating the bond between them and sliding into his thoughts.

  The dungeon receded and became the outside world. A frozen landscape filled with snow. She brought forth his memories, and it was as if they were real, happening to him now. A village…he remembered it.

  It was the first village of Others he had found. He had been a vampire for less than five years. His feet trudged through the snow to the first hut, smoke curling out of the chimney. He drew his sword, felt the rightness of what he was about to do, and the desire to kill. Slaughter. That was what she wanted him to see, to live again, every face he had killed throughout the years. He sliced deep through a man’s shoulder and felt the pain of it in his own skin.

  Lucas screamed in agony.

  Virginia’s words came to him from a long way away, as if they were carried on the cold wind around him. “It is not real. It just feels real. The beauty of it is that I can still torture you, but you will not weaken. There will be no marks, no loss of power, but you will still hurt. Not enough. Never enough. But it’s a start,” she said.

  He watched her leave, walking away from him, the dungeon falling from view as he was washed away by his past, death after death soaking into his mind, coursing through his body and crunching his bones. And all he thought, as the tears flowed, and he cried out in pain, was that he deserved it.

  *****

  Valerie felt sick.

  She was sweating and clammy, and she felt as if something bad were about to happen. Like the world was about to end, or she was about to die. She took a deep breath and went to the air conditioner, trying to make the classroom colder.

  Her students were taking a test, and after that she could leave, go home and do what? Freak out in private? Have a panic attack or scream hysterically?

  The bell finally rang, and she went home; the sense of fear, dread and pain, consuming her. She lay down on her bed and was glad for the dark. She didn’t remember closing the curtains, but she must have. You must always keep the curtains closed, she thought and didn’t question it.

  She closed her eyes, and a vision, like a flash of lightning, sizzled behind her eyes. A man: tall, broad-shouldered, golden and beautiful. He was shirtless, covered in blood; body bowed outwards as he screamed in pain. His hands were fisted, and tears coursed down his cheeks. Her sense of wrongness and fear increased so that she wanted to scream or cry—suddenly willing to do anything to make it stop.

  She jerked upright and turned on the light. It wasn’t real. It made no sense. She needed to get her shit under control. Go to the doctor and get some Xanax. She could just imagine what she’d say—she felt panicky, and when she closed her eyes, she saw the hottest man ever, bleeding and half-naked; being tortured.

  Had she suddenly become a sadist? Read too many kinky S and M novels and this was the price?

  She got up and walked to the windows, ready to open the curtains and let some light in.

  Suddenly, she was in the kitchen. What am I doing here? What am I looking for? Valerie went to the cupboards, opening it up, hands shaking. She must have come down here for water. That was the only explanation.

  She grabbed a mug, and had an urge to throw it, to take everything out of that cupboard and destroy it, smash the whole house to pieces. She gripped the mug tightly, so tight her fingers whitened, then went and opened the back door, walking out onto her patio.

  “Don’t do this. It’s insane,” she muttered. She lowered the mug, breathing deeply. She was a sane person, right? “Except for the talking to yoursel
f, you’re great,” she said aloud.

  All at once, the feeling of wrongness and pain—that she was failing someone—came back and overwhelmed her. With a scream she threw the mug, watching it shatter a few feet away from her.

  It wasn’t enough.

  She ran back inside and grabbed more glasses and mugs, taking as many as she could carry in her arms. She began throwing them, smashing them all to pieces, bits of glass and pottery stabbing her in the calves. Her lower legs were covered with blood, and she stepped backward, went back into her house and started to cry.

  Chapter 15

  LUCAS HAD no idea how long the memories had gone on for. Hours? Months? Hundreds of years he had relived for some unknown period of time, and his voice was gone. He’d screamed it out long ago. If he hadn’t been chained upright, he’d have fallen. He could barely think. All he knew was death, and that he was the cause of it.

  He heard Valerie's steps on the stairs, and had a moment of irrational hope that she was back. That Virginia had lied, that the whole encounter had been some kind of ruse. But when he saw her, he knew the truth. It was Virginia come to see him, and Valerie was gone.

  She smiled at the dried blood on his skin and his lost expression. She chuckled when a shudder ran through him. She was wearing different clothing. A sapphire blue dress and he decided that was an indication that time had passed.

  “I like your tears,” she said and touched his cheek with her finger. “It is time to drink. You drink my blood, and I will drink yours.” She held Valerie's wrist out towards him. His heart thundered; his mouth was dry, and his head pounded as if someone were striking it with an axe.

  He needed blood.

  He needed to stay strong.

  But every time he drank Valerie's blood, they became closer. How many more times could he feed Virginia and stay himself? Not become a total junkie, or have her so rooted into his mind that he would be nothing more than her puppet?

  Maybe the next time.

  Maybe it is already too late.

  His eyes were closed, and so the pain of her blade at his neck came as a surprise. She sealed her mouth to his neck and drank his blood for what seemed like a long time. Everything about her was familiar but different. She stood differently, touched him differently. Even her scent was different. In a way he could not define and did not want to.

  Valerie's wrist was in front of his face. A small gash parted her skin, and red blood glinted in the light.

  He felt himself at a crossroad, and wished that he felt sensible enough to look left and right. But his mind and his emotions were in upheaval. As if they belonged to somebody else. Someone desperate and frantic. Someone who would rush across the road and hope to make it rather than look around them.

  The scent of her blood turned away his restraint. This was Valerie. This essence and sweetness. This lightness and purity. What was there that was worth fighting for if Valerie was gone?

  The answer was simple: Nothing.

  If Valerie was not here, then he wanted nothing. He’d been dying, fading away out of boredom. Losing time for decades and all he’d felt was relief. Valerie changed that. She was fresh, exciting, funny and caring. So caring and emotional, that he had wondered what it was like to live that intensely. He’d wanted to warm himself by the fire of her soul, and now that chance was gone.

  Time had had no meaning for him, and so he had dithered. He should have acted sooner, given himself more time to be with her. The weight of his mistake brought him low. He was not thinking. He was only feeling.

  And so he drank.

  The power of her blood washed him away, left him open and defenseless. He heard her laugh, felt her inside of his mind, preparing to harm him further, wondering what the best way was. He wasn’t fighting her. He was open, waiting and vulnerable. She spoke again, but the words meant nothing. Time meant nothing. Her hold on him was everything. Lucas felt himself falling, shattering to pieces—and then his world changed.

  Chapter 16

  AS VALERIE stepped out the door of her classroom and locked up, she saw James, the science teacher, coming towards her. He was tall and handsome, and he seemed to like her, which was nice. It should be more than nice, right?

  “Are we still on for Pinkberry?” he asked, his keys already in hand.

  “Yes. But I’ll meet you there. I’ve got to run a few errands afterward,” she said with a distracted smile.

  At Pinkberry, Val ordered coconut yogurt with strawberries and kiwi on top. She also decided to ‘go big’ and ordered this strange chocolate sauce that had crunchy rice bits in it. It was waxy and weird, yet strangely addictive.

  James ordered watermelon yogurt and then paid. Maybe she should have stopped him from paying for her. He was always asking her out, and although he was cute…he just didn’t do it for her. Whatever ‘it’ was.

  But he was nice, and she thought she was supposed to want a nice, dependable guy to ask her out. Should she tell him she was insane and see if it scared him off?

  They sat at a table near the door, and Val looked around, goose bumps rising on her arms. She had the distinct feeling that someone was watching her. I’m just paranoid. She tried to ignore it. It was probably because she was on a diet. Convinced that everyone knew she was blowing it with the chocolate sauce.

  James reached out and touched her hand. “Earth to Val.”

  She couldn’t help but look over her shoulder again. Still no one looking at me. And then a man came into the store. She hadn’t seen that part; she’d looked up, and it was as if he’d appeared out of nowhere.

  He was tall and…godlike. Too attractive to be walking into a normal store in San Loaran. He belonged in a photo shoot. His hair was blond and thick, his shoulders broad. And he was ridiculously tall. And that jaw…hard and square. She wondered what it tasted like, how it would be to kiss his skin.

  Her heart jumped as she looked at him, feeling a certain connection, almost a recognition. He was staring at the yogurt shop in shock. As if he were an alien that had just been placed on earth and had no idea where he was. Admittedly the décor was a bit loud. Lots of neon colors and white retro chairs and tables. Then he saw her, and he took a step forward, then checked himself and looked around again. Val jerked her gaze away; no need to ogle the beautiful man. Until his back was turned, then she’d ogle.

  James was saying something, and she wondered what the hell it was. Cars. He was talking about cars. Val snuck a glance back at the gorgeous guy. She didn’t know anything about cars and didn’t want to. The man was walking up to them, and Val felt herself filling with panic at the sight of him. Panic? Is that how little I get attention, that a beautiful man looks at me, and my first reaction is to panic? Pathetic!

  She set the yogurt down on the table and waited, staring at the white surface. Maybe he wasn’t coming up to them.

  He is. And he’s even better up close.

  “Valerie.” His voice was deep and had an accent. He said her name as if he knew her. Laughter, a little bit hysterical, rose up inside of her for no reason. She bit back a giggle and knew she was blushing like a moron.

  She looked up and into his pale, blue eyes and forbidding expression, and whatever she saw in those depths wiped the laughter away from her. She had the oddest feeling that she knew him.

  “That’s me,” she said and waited. Was he a parent of one of her students? He looked young to have a high schooler, but there was a certain hardness to him, a weight and presence that made him seem like he’d lived a long and hard life. It belied his age. If she had to guess, she’d say 30. Maybe he’d had a kid at 15? While it wasn't impossible, somehow it just didn't seem right.

  “What is this?” he asked, arctic gaze flicking from her to James and back again. But it was barely a question. More like an accusation.

  “You mean the yogurt shop?” she said, confused by the question.

  “No. This…” His nostrils flared as he exhaled hard. And then he turned and looked at James. James stood, as though
he couldn’t meet a guy like this sitting down. His inner caveman demanded he stand.

  “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Val asked. I wouldn’t forget you. He laughed, and it sounded bitter. It raised the hair on her arms, made her feel like she was suddenly in an electrical storm, and everything was crackling around her.

  “You heard her, who are you?” James said, sounding slightly belligerent.

  The stranger ignored him, attention honed in on Valerie. “Your life is in danger. You are toying with death by being here. And what about Jack? Will you let him roam the world tied to Rachel?”

  James cut in, “Are you threatening her? You need to leave or else I’m going to call the police.” Val felt the breath leave her. What was he talking about? Who was he?

  “Who are you?” she asked, and felt a buzzing in her ears like she might faint. Jack. Rachel. Should she know those names? They flew around her mind like they were familiar. Birds with razor-sharp wings that sliced open her mind as they tried to escape the confines of her skull.

  “You know me. You know my name. Do not play games, Valerie Dearborn, or we will all perish.”

  “Oh, Jesus!” James exclaimed, and he held out napkins towards her. “Your nose is bleeding. Are you all right?” Val blinked and looked down, blood dripping all over her shirt. The buzzing turned into a steady ring, and she put her head down on the table, hoping that if she fainted, she would stay in the chair and not fall on the ground.

  And then everything went dark.

  *****

  Lucas looked at Valerie in horror, heart pounding in fear. This was his fault. But seeing her here, knowing that she was alive, his first impulse had been to walk up to her, take her into his arms and kiss her.

  And then he’d seen the man she was with. It was clear that he cared for her. Where the hell were they? He could hear some part of him screaming, knew that Virginia was torturing his body, and yet he felt as if he’d left that behind. His immortal coils, as it were.