Twilight Crossing

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Twilight Crossing Page 27

by Susan Krinard


  “I don’t care,” she said. “I want to feel you.”

  As he bit down gently into her neck, she unbuttoned his fly and put her hand on him. He was already hard, and he wondered how she could expect him to control himself when he was tasting the very essence of her body, becoming one with the beat of her—

  He stiffened as the realization struck him. Her blood offered more than intimacy and a sensual thrill. He could taste the wholesomeness of it, feel it course through his body like nectar.

  She was feeding him, just as she had so many times before. Her blood had not lost the ability to nourish him, and he made a small, triumphant sound in his throat as she continued to stroke him, drawing him toward the inevitable climax.

  He drew back, stopped her hand and unbuttoned her pants. With eager fingers he pulled them down, and she stepped out of them. He fell with her to the ground and, without further hesitation, entered her yielding body. She wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him in, clearly aware that he could barely control himself, that he had to have all of her now. He moved vigorously, licking the place he had bitten, kissing the underside of her delicate jaw and working his hand between their bodies to caress her tender flesh.

  Jamie contracted around him with a cry of pleasure, and he followed a moment later. Then he rolled over and settled her in the crook of his elbow, trying to absorb every part of her into himself.

  “How did you know I could feed from you?” he asked her.

  “I only guessed,” she said, rubbing her palm over his chest. “I hoped, since I don’t seem to have become completely Opir...”

  “You were right.” He sighed, realizing that they’d reestablished the blood-bond all over again. He tried to put the thought out of his mind.

  “Tell me about your mother,” he said, changing the subject.

  “I don’t know what to say to her. She’s been a prisoner for more than half my life.”

  “She obviously loves you,” Timon said. “And you still love her.”

  “Yes. But Amos...” She released her breath. “He did what he did because he’s loved her all this time. And now he’s a criminal, partially responsible for dozens of deaths. How do I begin to understand that?”

  “Maybe you can’t,” he said, nuzzling her cheek. “It would be easier if he were an evil man. But I don’t think he is. He just made a terrible choice.”

  “Because, in the end, he didn’t really think that Opiri lives were equal to my mother’s freedom.”

  “I’m sorry, Jamie,” Timon said, running his hand down her arm. “I wish I could take your pain from you.”

  “I know.” She placed her hand flat over his chest as if she could gather his heart in her hand. “I know.”

  They lay that way for a few precious minutes. Jamie was the first to rise, retrieving her pants and pulling them on with her back to him, as if she’d suddenly become shy of his gaze.

  “We have to go back,” she said, her voice wavering.

  He buttoned his pants and adjusted his shirt. “The Riders expect me to lead them now.”

  “Yes.” She turned to face him, her expression calm and almost distant. “They’re still badly needed.”

  “To take the cure beyond the tent city,” he said.

  “And to help us salvage what we can of this Conclave.”

  “We’ve lost the right to call ourselves neutral.”

  “At least you aren’t delegates.” She started out of the bosk. “The fate of the Erebusians and my godfather have yet to be decided. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Committee put it to some kind of vote.”

  “They’ll never get a consensus now.”

  “But this will not be the last meeting,” she said, confidence returning to her voice. “It can’t be. Maybe no real decisions will be reached today, or tomorrow. But both Opiri and humans have much to think about, and not only of the fact that we share a common ancestor. The Opiri have seen members of their own kind responsible for killing innocents who came to the Conclave in good faith. Humans have witnessed a similar betrayal, forcing them to be vectors of those deaths. Once they’ve fully understood—”

  “If they ever do.”

  Jamie stopped to face him. “Believe, Timon. Believe, for my sake.”

  He laid his hands on her shoulders. “I will. But believing isn’t enough.”

  She moved, but he didn’t let her go. She met his gaze.

  “We both know what we have to do,” she said, her voice constricted and tight.

  “Do we?” he asked.

  “Of course we do!” she said. “You’re the leader of the Riders now. They need you. I’ve already accepted that.”

  “And your mother needs you to help produce more of the cure.”

  “Yes.” Her throat bobbed. “It...it was always going to be this way, Timon. Even when I let myself—”

  “Let yourself what, Jamie? Love me?”

  She tilted her chin up. “Yes.”

  “And have you stopped? Have I managed to drive you away forever?”

  “What difference does it make?” she asked with the despair he’d seen in her eyes before. “Our worlds have always been too different.”

  “Like the humans and Opiri?” he asked. “I won’t take your freedom from you.”

  He cupped his hand under her chin. “Freedom means nothing to me without you by my side.”

  She began to tremble. “You...”

  “I love you, Jamie.” He kissed her very lightly on the lips.

  Chapter 43

  A full day passed before everyone was sure that the cure was successful. The stricken Opiri were beginning to recover, and the last of the humans had received their injections. The Committee had managed to gather a quorum of delegates to discuss the fate of the Conclave, and of those who had attempted to destroy it.

  Jamie sat with the rest of her delegation except Amos, who, like Cassius and the Erebusians, was being held elsewhere until a decision about their fates could be reached. In spite of what she’d told Timon, Jamie had expected the meeting to be boiling over with anger and accusations, but the tent was almost shockingly quiet.

  She looked for Timon, who stood with the Riders at the foot of the Committee’s dais. His men were alert but relaxed, as if they, too, expected reason to prevail.

  Timon had said he would believe, and he did. His gaze met hers across the wide space, and he smiled, the expression all for her.

  Her heart beat so loudly in her ears that she almost missed the verdict. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected. The Erebusians, Cassius and Amos were not to be executed, as she’d feared.

  Instead the Erebusians were to be taken by the Tenebrians, who promised to incarcerate the offenders, and Amos was to be returned to the San Francisco Enclave, where he would also be imprisoned as a murderer. Jamie felt only a twinge of grief now, knowing she had lost a man who, in many ways, had existed only in her own mind.

  As for Cassius, he was stripped of his membership in the Riders and would join the Erebusians in Tenebris. The delegates agreed that no others were to be held to blame.

  The discussion about the fate of the Conclave itself was far more complicated. There was still enough goodwill to make some kind of peace a reality, but all agreed that the Conclave could only be a beginning. News of Jamie’s revelation had to be spread and absorbed; even now, there were some delegates who refused to believe.

  But the foundation had been laid. There would be other meetings, in different places; ambassadorial visits between Citadels and Enclaves; visits to the successful mixed human/Opiri colonies; acts of goodwill such as the voluntary sharing of blood.

  As for the virus and its cure, there remained the danger that those who’d left the Conclave earlier had carried it with them back to their communities. Every Enclave, C
itadel and colony of any kind had to be visited and a sample of the cure offered to deal with any infections that might appear in the future. Led by Eileen McCullough, scientists of the San Francisco Enclave would be responsible for producing sufficient quantities of the cure, making it available to all who requested it.

  And the Riders would carry it. The Riders, led by Timon.

  It wasn’t as if Jamie hadn’t seen it coming. The moment the Brotherhood had declared Timon their leader, she had known what must happen. More than ever, they needed a firm and incorruptible leader. They had to re-earn their reputation for neutrality, and Timon was just the man to do it.

  He had said he loved her. But love wasn’t enough to keep them together, even if he had to go through withdrawal from the blood-bond before he was fully fit to lead the Riders into a new future.

  She closed her eyes as the meeting ended, ignoring the remaining members of her delegation as they rose and left the tent with all the others. When everything was quiet, she opened her eyes.

  Timon stood on at the foot of the risers, looking up at her.

  “Jamie,” he said softly.

  “I have to rejoin my people,” she said, rising to descend some distance from where he stood.

  “What’s the hurry?” he asked. “It’ll be days before anyone is ready to leave. There are still plans to be laid.”

  She stopped at the end of the riser and looked away. “I know some of your men will be accompanying us back to the Enclave to pick up more of the cure,” she said.

  “Yes. I’ve chosen Orpheus to lead them.”

  Her throat was almost too tight for words to escape. “Good. It’ll be easier to work with someone we know well.”

  Timon frowned. “You and your mother?”

  “And all the scientists we can recruit. We built the original virus, and now we have to make sure it can never be revived.”

  He grabbed her hand. “Have you forgotten already?” he asked.

  “No. But you know as well as I do that it isn’t that simple.”

  “When did I say love was simple?” He caressed her palm. “Or are you trying to tell me that you don’t feel the same? Was I so wrong?”

  “Timon,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “My feelings for you haven’t changed since the day we met. But we’re just two people. So much needs to be done. We’ve both become too much a part of this, Timon.”

  “What if you had the chance to see what you’ve set in motion firsthand?”

  “What are you saying?”

  He brought her fisted hand to his chest. “You’ve come too far, Jamie. You deserve to live, not hide behind walls.”

  The beating of Timon’s heart passed through Jamie’s skin and pulsed through her body. Her mouth went dry. “What are you suggesting, Timon?” she asked hoarsely.

  “My parents have offered to have the Freebloods help the Brotherhood spread the cure and escort new teams of ambassadors between settlements. They would be more than happy to let you travel with them. It’s very possible to live only on animal blood, as they do the majority of the time—and since you haven’t shown any signs of hunger, you may not need it at all. I know you have the strength, and people will respect what you’ve done here. You could make a difference.”

  “Of course,” Jamie said thickly. “I’m still your mother’s vassal.”

  “That ends today. You’d be traveling as a free person.”

  “Without you.”

  “Did you think I would leave you?”

  “The Riders...”

  “I’m leaving the Riders. I’ll tell them they will have to find a different leader now.”

  She stared at him. “The Riders are your life.”

  “Were my life. Now I have another reason to live.”

  “I’m barely Opir. What if I have only a human life span?”

  “Then we’ll make the most of it.”

  “What if I really want to go home?”

  “Then I’ll go with you. We’ll find a way, Jamie.”

  She met his gaze. “Will we, Timon? Can we?”

  “Anything is possible if you can speak the words.”

  “What—” She broke off, suddenly understanding. In all her time with him, she had never told Timon she loved him.

  If she spoke now, it would be like the blood-bond, a kind of magic that would tie them together forever.

  She’d always thought herself a coward. She was still afraid. Timon was offering her no less than everything. Could she accept it?

  Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles. “If you need more time to think...”

  “I’ve spent enough time thinking,” she said. She unfolded her hand and pressed it to Timon’s face. “I love you, Timon.”

  He laughed, grabbing her around the waist and swinging her in a circle.

  “Which way do we ride?” he asked.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from BRIMSTONE BRIDE by Barbara J. Hancock.

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  Brimstone Bride

  by Barbara J. Hancock

  Chapter 1

  Playground sounds made the danger beside Victoria so much worse. High-pitched laughter and conversations about make-believe seemed surreal. Across the mulched expanse, her sister, Katherine D’Arcy Severne, pushed Victoria’s toddler, Michael, and her own baby, Sam, on the swings. She glanced toward Victoria and waved. Vic waved back.

  Pay no attention to the madman beside me, Kat. Keep my Michael and your Sam safe.

  The monk sitting beside Victoria on the park bench was in a businessman’s suit, as if he’d dropped by the Baton Rouge, Louisiana, playground during his lunch break. He crossed his legs gracefully like a civilized man. Kat probably thought he was a father watching his child play instead of an evil man come to threaten their own. Victoria had been resting in the sun when he’d approached. She’d actually smiled at him when he’d joined her on the bench.

  And then he’d revealed his true purpose.

  “The Order of Samuel has proven time and time again that you cannot run. You cannot hide. You will learn this lesson or your child will join us. A half daemon brother would be unusual, but I’m sure we could train him, put him to good use for Father Reynard’s cause.”

  “Stay. Away. From. Michael,” Victoria said. Her voice cracked with emotion. Her baby was on
ly two. Katherine pushed her nephew higher and he squealed.

  Victoria’s throat had yet to recover from the injuries she’d sustained in the opera house fire set by Father Reynard. They’d blamed it on an obsessive fan. He’d been obsessive all right. But not a fan. He was a daemon hunter and she and Katherine had been his reluctant bloodhounds. They’d been born with an affinity for Brimstone blood that inevitably led them to the daemons Reynard hunted. Violence. Blood. Pain. No rest. No peace. He had dogged their steps for as long as they could walk.

  He’d died in the fire, but apparently his cause hadn’t.

  “I will leave your daemon spawn alone, only if you set my brethren free. This man is our greatest enemy. He must be stopped,” the monk in disguise said.

  He held a magazine in his hands and tilted the cover so she could see the man who graced it.

  Michael’s laughter floated to her ears as his doting aunt pushed him on the swing. Victoria had fallen in love with a daemon. Her affinity for the Brimstone in his blood had drawn them together, but it had been more than that. He’d been a stop to running. He’d been hope. He had died trying to protect her and Michael. The Order of Samuel said they were warriors for heaven. They lied. The members of the D’Arcy family were tools used by one faction of daemons to hunt another.

  Politics.

  The D’Arcy ability to draw and be drawn to daemon blood had placed them in the middle of an otherworldly civil war.

  Love wasn’t allowed.

  Ironic that her favorite role to play had always been Juliet. She’d traveled around the world to sing the part of a tragic romance again and again.

  “What do you want me to do?” Victoria asked.

  The man on the cover of the magazine was a beautiful stranger in a designer suit. Behind him, a vineyard stretched in seemingly endless verdant rows. He stood with one foot on the threshold of a historic stone building, a massive wooden door with iron hinges looking rough-hewn and craggy in sharp contrast to his polished clothes. There was a gleam to the black waves of his hair, but those waves and his sun-kissed skin seemed more in keeping with the door than his suit. Victoria had grown up in the dramatic world of the opera. She knew a costume when she saw one. The man’s civilized suit was a lie.

 

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