by Rye Brewer
“And yet, you broke in.” I smiled, glancing his way.
“Guilty.” He shrugged, hands spread. “It was clear to me you were I pain, and I wanted to do something to stop it. If that makes me a monster, so be it. I will gladly accept it.”
He had a way of getting to me. I couldn’t help smiling at his protective instincts. “He wasn’t hurting me—I mean, maybe my feelings were hurt, but that’s something he and I have to get through. Somehow.” I rubbed my bare arms with my palms when I realized something had sent a cold shiver through me. “And I hurt his feelings. Which is a crappy thing to do, since I know how it feels.”
“I’m sure this is natural. All couples go through things like this. Granted, the two of you aren’t the typical couple.”
“What an understatement.”
We walked across the Pont d’Iena and turned down the Avenue de New York. How ironic.
I couldn’t help but glance back at the tower, again and again, regretting the way things had gone. Time and distance always seemed to do that.
We walked in companionable silence. He seemed to understand the heaviness of my heart and gave me the chance to get my thoughts in order.
“Where’s the rest of the clan?” I asked after we’d walked a few blocks.
“They’re off hunting and doing whatever it is they do.”
“I see.”
Micah rarely hunted alone. This told me he’d been searching for us. For me. I couldn’t help feeling a little flattered, since it wasn’t as though I hated him. Far from it. I couldn’t deny my attraction to him, in fact. Anybody with a pulse would’ve been attracted to someone like him. Between his dark, smoldering looks and his magnetism, he was a walking dream.
I missed dreaming.
“Have you ever had a consort after you came to Paris?” I asked in an effort to forget my troubles.
“Oh, no. I could never bring myself to commit to one woman.”
I laughed. “You’re such a jerk sometimes.”
“I know. It’s part of my charm.” His smile nearly melted me. I blushed and looked away.
“So there hasn’t been anyone special in all this time?”
“There have been many special people,” he assured me, keeping his voice light.
“But not one, very special person. You know what I’m talking about, Micah. You don’t have to pretend to be Mr. Cavalier with me. I know you have a heart in there, somewhere under all those muscles and all that hair.”
“That hurts a little.”
“I know it doesn’t.”
“At any rate, no. There hasn’t been a special woman in my life since…” His soft sigh was barely audible, but I picked up on it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mention something which still causes you pain.”
“I can’t blame you for being curious, but I don’t think there will ever be a time when the memory of Georgina doesn’t cause some degree of pain.”
“She was special to you.”
“Of course. Time doesn’t erase that sort of love, or even blunt it. If anything, the love I have for her is stronger than it ever was before. Perhaps because I’ve spent so much of my existence without her.”
“What happened to her? I mean, I know you turned her. But why? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but it might help to talk about her.”
“I would like very much to talk about her. It’s been a long time since there’s been anyone who wants to hear about her. It’s as though she never existed, and that’s the cruelest part of it all.”
“I’m so sorry. And I’m all ears.”
He sighed again.
I looked up at him, his profile beautifully highlighted by the street lights. It may as well have been only the two of us in the entire city. None of the humans even registered on my consciousness—which was rare, since I was so often hungry for them.
“Georgina,” he breathed then smiled.
Maybe the first genuine smile I had ever seen from him. He resembled an enamored little boy, not the always-in-control creature of the night I had known since arriving in Paris. I liked this version of him much more.
“She was the daughter of one of my father’s employees. We were farmers, as Gage’s family once was. Mr. Deveaux was the business manager. He was a fairly wealthy man, and we were a wealthy family, so it seemed natural that we would one day be married in order to unite our families. Georgina and I were lucky in that we were in love—some young men of my day and age were forced into arranged marriages with utterly tragic excuses for women.”
“That’s not sexist or mean at all,” I muttered.
“It’s still the truth, however. But Georgina was an angel. Not unlike you in many ways.”
I blushed. “Stop it.”
“I mean it. She had the same golden hair as yours, the same snappy intellect. It was unfortunate, if anything, for her to be born into an era in which a woman’s intellect was disregarded. Sometimes, I still see her blue eyes in front of me, as though she still possessed the power to look into my soul. Many were the times when I was certain she was capable of that.”
“Did she know who you were? I mean, what you were?”
“She did. I could never keep a secret from her. She never understood why we couldn’t meet in daylight. Why we always had to meet at night. She would ask me to take her on a picnic or a carriage ride, and I’d remind her how busy I was during the day—I would beg off by using work as an excuse. My father kept me on a short leash, that sort of thing. It only lasted but so long. And it was more than that. I loved her too much to allow her to be mine under false pretenses. Eventually, she would find out what I was, and I might lose her love. I couldn’t do that to her, or to me.”
“How did she react?”
“With curiosity, strangely enough. Or perhaps not so strange. She was always curious about life and the world. She would’ve made a wonderful scientist or explorer. When I told her I was a vampire, she was fascinated. She peppered me with questions every night for a full week. At the end of it, she assured me I had her love. Even though I wasn’t allowed to turn her—though I may have been able to appeal to the league once we were wed, and there could’ve been a chance for them to rule in our favor—she was eager to see life through my eyes one day. Her exact words.” His smile was sweet and full of love.
So much love, it took my breath away.
“And… what happened to her?”
He was quiet for a long time before speaking again, and his voice was tight when he did. “She grew ill. Influenza. I watched her slip away, and it was simply too much. I couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. I couldn’t imagine life without her—eternity, no less. An eternity in which I would suffer through, missing her the way I would’ve missed oxygen.”
I reached out and took his arm, winding mine around it. He patted my hand, holding his chin high. Pretending to be brave for the sake of his image.
“I turned her when she was perhaps moments from death. Up until that minute, I’d held out hope. The influenza was going around at that time, and rumor had it the infected ones often looked worst right before they overcame the illness. I wanted to believe that. I wanted to so badly. It seems stupid now, thinking back. But that’s what love does to people, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.”
His jaw tightened, muscles jumping in it. “Needless to say, the league heard of her existence and put an end to it. I can’t speak any more on the subject. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry about that. If I were you, I wouldn’t have been able to speak of it at all. You’re very brave.”
“Brave,” he scoffed. “If I’d been truly brave, I would’ve let her go. Or at least found a way to spirit her far from the league before they learned of my actions. I would’ve protected her better. But I didn’t. I thought they would understand—I was hardly a child at the time, but I was still hopelessly naïve. And because of my naïveté, she died far more horribly than she wo
uld have if I’d allowed her to die from her illness.”
“You can’t torture yourself over it.”
His laugh was bitter, angry. Pained. “Can’t I? I’ve done a fairly good job of it ever since. How can a man forgive himself for something like that? I wasn’t there when they killed her. How could I be? I had to run. She died alone. She may have been wondering why I’d deserted her. There is no greater pain than that, I assure you.” He turned his face away, toward the street.
Tears filled my eyes and threatened to choke me. Only it wasn’t entirely over his story that I felt so emotional.
That was how Gage must have felt when I’d been dying. Like he couldn’t live without me. And unlike Micah, he had gotten me away before anyone could find me. He had taken a great chance and was living in a literal underground tomb for my sake. His sake, too, of course—but he could’ve easily acted out of self-interest and allowed me to die merely to save his own life. He hadn’t done that. He’d known well what would happen to him if caught. He had seen his friend go through it. But he’d chosen me.
Micah pulled up short when I stopped walking. “Oh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you about this. It was too much.”
I shook my head. “That’s not it. I hate to do this right now, especially after everything you’ve shared, but I need to find Gage. I have to try to make things right. Thank you for showing me how wrong I was.”
I jumped a little to press my lips to his cheek before turning and hurrying away. If I got lucky, I’d find Gage at the tower, but I’d go to the catacombs if he’d left. I could only hope to make things right again.
29
Micah
I watched her run away, my cheek still tingling with the sensation of her lips against it.
Leaving me alone as she ran through the night in search of her great love. That pathetic fool who thought he could keep her all to himself.
What the hell did I have to do to get to her?
I had her, damn it! I had her. I was so close. Another five minutes, maybe ten, and she would’ve been in my arms. One kiss, and I would make her forget she’d ever met Gage. I hadn’t foreseen the possibility that she’d recognize the parallels between her story and Georgina’s. I’d only wanted to capitalize on her sympathy and use it to use it to complete my seduction.
Perhaps if I’d told her about the way her boyfriend had allowed Georgina’s murder, she wouldn’t have run off to find him like a heroine in an old movie.
Gage was weak and cowardly, not to mention soft from centuries of living in luxury. Not nearly man enough for her. She deserved fire and passion, which I would gladly give her for the rest of my life. If only she weren’t so blind.
She was long gone, and I hadn’t moved from the spot in which she’d left me. Unspeakable frustration and unspent desire fought for domination in my psyche as I resumed with my walk. I was no longer strolling, as I’d been with her. This time, I was looking for a meal.
It was only a matter of time before their relationship imploded. Anyone with eyes could see it. She resented him for telling her what to do. She resented him for turning her in the first place—still unable to understand her dual nature, unable to come to terms with what she was capable of. Her humanity tugged at her conscience, even as her thirst for blood was an unending presence in the back of her mind.
I would never make her choose between her two natures. I would never make her feel guilty for being who she was. I would celebrate her, take pride in her hunting skills while enjoying her humor and intelligence. She didn’t have to be one or the other.
Several women walked in a group on my side of the road, coming in my direction. All of them stared as we passed each other, and I acknowledged them with a nod. A shame none of them were on their own. One at a time, I would’ve gladly fed on them. But four? Too many chances for something to go wrong.
Carissa.
The name was like music, as the sound of her voice was more pleasing than my favorite aria. She was the only woman to stir anything resembling love in me since I lost Georgina. She may have believed I was only flattering her when I said she reminded me of my long-lost love, but it was the truth. They were both beautiful and strong and intelligent. Warm and humorous and able to make me laugh at myself, which was something not a single other person had been able to do throughout my life.
I reached the Jardins de Trocadero with the lit fountains which overlooked the Eiffel Tower. Couples strolled along, holding hands and kissing and generally nauseating me. There were too many of them wandering around to feasibly lure one of them into the shadows. Somebody would see.
A head full of golden waves caught my attention, and, for a second, I thought she might have come back to me.
The way my heart clenched was surprising, and alarming. It wasn’t her, naturally. But in that one moment, I’d hoped. And that was a dangerous thing.
She—the lookalike—was alone.
My instincts pinged as they did when I knew I had found my latest meal. I followed at a safe distance until I was sure she wasn’t meeting anyone—she appeared a bit depressed, shoulders slumped and arms wrapped around her waist. Perfect. She wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings.
I fell into step beside her once I was certain we weren’t being observed.
“Why would a beautiful woman such as you look so sad?” I murmured.
She glanced up at me with big, wide, trusting eyes.
It was almost too easy. I smelled the desire coming from her right away and noted the dilation of her pupils, signaling her arousal at my presence.
It was only a matter of minutes after that. I crouched behind a wide tree with her crushed between the trunk and my unforgiving body, giving the impression to anyone who might see us that we were nothing more than lovers enjoying a thrill.
She’d long since gone limp, her blood no longer pumping. I made sure I was alone before giving her the space to fall to the ground, folding in on herself.
It wasn’t safe. I shouldn’t have done it out in the open, much less to a girl somebody might miss.
She wasn’t one of the nameless, faceless, lonely souls I normally preyed upon. But I couldn’t help it. She reminded me so much of Cari, even in death. If I couldn’t have her, I would take the next best thing.
I coursed away from there, cutting through the darkness along the bank of the Seine until I was a sufficient distance from the scene of my crime.
That was a stupid, undisciplined move. I couldn’t go around draining every blonde who crossed my path. I had to do something about the Gage problem, and fast, before I made a deadly mistake.
I wouldn’t share Cari with him any longer.
30
Anissa
“What do you want from Fane?” How I managed to sound strong was a mystery, since all I could do was quake inside.
Beings like Elazar didn’t make empty promises or threats. That much I knew. And they didn’t make bargains in which they expected to be anything less than the one to benefit most.
“That is for me to decide, little half-breed,” Elazar murmured with a wicked smile.
Everything about him was wicked. I could understand all too well how he’d managed to get himself locked up for as long as he had. I could imagine the sorts of crimes he must’ve committed, how many lives he must have destroyed.
“We deserve to know!” Scott snarled as his fangs descended. He was about to get us all killed.
Stark made a move in his direction, as though to stop him from doing anything as monumentally stupid as he’d tried in the courtyard.
“The details of our agreement are between Fane and me,” he informed us, as calm as anything.
It didn’t matter how Scott threatened or whether or not he was outnumbered. He was as placid as a still lake.
“That’s nothing but a filthy excuse,” Scott growled.
“Yes, well, it’s the truth. Whether you believe it’s an excuse or not is up to you. You don’t deserve to know, nor do you need to
.”
I moved in close, murmured in Scott’s ear. “He’s been locked up all this time. He’s spent it fantasizing about how he’d make those who’d put him in his cell suffer for it and how he would twist others to his will. He wants to lord his power over you. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Scott, he’ll kill you.” I looked him in the eye. “He will kill you for the fun of it. This isn’t a game. There’s nothing you can do now to change the way things have unfolded. Think about what you’re doing. Think about who you’re challenging here.”
He peered over my shoulder to where Elazar and Fane stood. Some of the light left his eyes. The fire. He was starting to listen to reason, and I nearly went weak with relief.
Then, his eyes went wide, and his mouth fell open. “Mother?”
“What?” I spun on my heel and saw what he’d seen. A woman entering through the tall double doors, so tall they dwarfed her.
Her red hair was brilliant, like that of her daughter’s.
For the first time since his change, Fane showed genuine emotion. “Elena?” he whispered, taking a tentative step toward her with his arms open. “Elena, is it you?”
I could understand why he swayed on his feet as he did. His long-lost love, the woman he’d given his human life to be with. The mother of his children. It was one thing to see her in Sorrowswatch, but another to watch her walk into the entry hall. A living, breathing woman.
A tear trickled down my cheek.
Her gaze landed on Fane then on his outstretched arms. I was sure she would run to him, throw herself at him. How could she not?
Easily.
She froze in place before understanding touched her face.
“Oh. You think I’m her.” Her voice nearly froze the blood in my veins. So cold, so dismissive.
Fane let out a long, deep breath before letting his arms drop to his sides. “Nivia.” All the emotion was gone from his voice.
She tilted her head to the side. “That’s correct. So sorry.”
