Eternal w-3

by Kristi Cook

  “Can you . . . ?” I tilted my head toward the door.

  “Of course,” Luc said. There was an audible click, and the door swung open.

  Moving in tandem, we led Aidan to the daybed against the wall and helped him to sit on the edge of the mattress.

  “I’ll be just outside,” Luc said, hooking a thumb toward the hallway. “Take all the time you need.”

  And then he was gone. Even though I knew it was pointless, I turned the lock anyway.

  “Violet,” Aidan whispered, his voice a gravelly rasp. It was the first word he’d spoken aloud, I realized with a start.

  “Oh my God, Aidan.” I rushed back to his side and knelt on the ground before him. “What did they do to you?” I gathered his cold hands in mine as I peered up at him, trying not to wince at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes, his hollow, gaunt cheeks. “Have they . . . did you feed before you came here?”

  He nodded, bowing his head and pressing his lips against my knuckles. “This isn’t real—it can’t be. It’s an illusion, like all the others.”

  I slipped one hand from his grasp and reached up to run it through his hair. “It’s real, Aidan. I’m here. See? And I’m not leaving—not till they drag me out.”

  He reached for my hand and drew it down against his cheek. We sat like that for several minutes, the room entirely silent but for the beating of our hearts. “It’s really you,” he said at last. “Not a trick.”

  I shook my head. “Nope, not a trick.”

  “Can you . . . will you just . . . hold me?”

  I sat beside him, drawing him down till we lay side by side. “God, I’ve missed you,” I said, breathing in his familiar scent as he wrapped one arm around me, my head resting on his shoulder now.

  “I’ve thought of you every minute of every day,” he answered. As we lay there, he combed his fingers through my hair, our hearts beating in perfect unison. Fifteen minutes passed. A half hour, maybe more. Eventually his fingers stilled in my hair, and I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. But then he shifted, drawing me closer.

  I scooted down, moving my cheek to his chest. “Please tell me you’re going to be okay.”

  “I’m not the same, Vi,” he said, his voice catching. “I’ll never be the same. Not after what I did.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. You know that. You heard what Mrs. Girard said. It was Jack—she made him tamper with the serum. She threatened his brother,” I added, hoping to lessen the sting of betrayal.

  “That doesn’t mean I didn’t do it. That I’m not capable of doing it again.”

  I took a deep breath. “What did they do to you, Aidan? I felt . . . heat. Burning heat. And my shoulders—there was this awful, tearing pain. Like my skin was being ripped open.” Absently, I rubbed a hand over my shoulder, remembering the horrific sensations.

  “You felt that?” he asked, his voice laced with incredulity. “But . . . how?”

  “I don’t know. It’s like I somehow got inside your head. At least, I assume it was your head. And that I was feeling some of what you were feeling.”

  He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling with a ragged breath. “I am so very sorry, Violet.”

  I rose up on one elbow, gazing down at him with a scowl. “Why are you apologizing to me? You’re the one they were torturing. God, how could Mrs. Girard allow them to do that to you? When she knew what happened—knew it was her fault!”

  “She never should have let me out.”

  “What are you talking about? You didn’t deserve to be in there in the first place!”

  “—and now to drag you into this, into her plot. It’s unconscionable.”

  I sat up sharply. “You’ve got to snap out of this, Aidan. I mean it. You’ve got to get yourself together and do what she’s asking. Become her Dauphin, or however the hell you say it. It’s the only way she’s going to let you go free. Besides, it sounds like it’s the right thing to do.”

  “I’d rather be destroyed.”

  My face blanched. “How can you say that?”

  “You don’t realize what you’re asking of me. To join them, to lead their war . . .” He shook his head. “It’s not what I want, Violet. I’m done. Finished. I’ve made peace with that.”

  “Done? What do you mean, done? You’ve got a second chance now. We’ve got a second chance.” Now that I had him back, there was no way I was letting him go, not like this.

  “I’ve brought enough trouble into your life already, don’t you think? Besides, what chance do we have if I agree to their plan? I won’t have my cure. If I accept this role, it’s a lifetime sentence. In my case, that’s an eternity. I can’t be destroyed, remember? Except by you.”

  “I’m not destroying you.”

  “We’re at a stalemate, then, aren’t we?”

  “If you just do what they’re asking, you’ll stay alive. Don’t you get that?” My voice rose a pitch, my breath coming faster now. “Whatever the cost, it’s worth it.”

  “Not to me. Don’t you get that? I’d come so close—so very close—to finding the cure. To having it all, everything I’d ever hoped and dreamed and wished for. The darkness lifted. My humanity restored. And you, Violet.” He brushed the back of one hand down the side of my face, eliciting a shiver that racked my entire body.

  “Especially you,” he continued. “It was within my grasp, and now it’s gone, all of it. I can’t go back, not now. Don’t you see? All I had, all I lived for, was that hope. And now—now I have nothing. Nothing to live for, to hope for. Would you really wish that existence on me?”

  The pain in his voice ripped my heart in two, and yet . . . call me selfish, but yes. Yes, I’d wish that on him. I couldn’t bear the thought of the alternative.

  “There’s got to be some other way,” I said in desperation. “We just . . . go along with it for now. Do whatever they need you to do to win the war and secure peace, and then we can renegotiate.”

  “The Vampire Tribunal doesn’t negotiate, Vi. Surely you must know that by now.”

  “Bu-but you’ll be their leader,” I stammered. “They’ll have to do whatever you say.”

  “My guess is that I’ll be their leader in the same fashion that the Eldest is now—in name only. A puppet, nothing more. You heard what Mrs. Girard said—she wants me to take my place by her side. By putting me there, she becomes the most powerful vampire alive, not me.”

  I digested that in silence. He was probably right, I realized. It made sense, especially with what I knew about female vampires. They were far more powerful, more aggressive than males. Still, it was our only hope. And I wasn’t ready to give up, even if he was.

  “I’m not letting you go back to that prison, Aidan. They can’t destroy you—she said so herself. So you just leave. You go.”

  His lips curved with the trace of a smile. “Go where?”

  “I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “Somewhere. Anywhere. I’ll go with you.”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “They’ll find us, Violet. They’ll hunt us down, to the far corners of the earth. It’s no use.”

  “How do you know they will?”

  “Because they think they need me. Nicole can’t access the kind of absolute power she wants without me. They’re not going to give up, not without a fight.”

  “But if they can’t destroy you—”

  “Even if they can’t, they can overpower me, hold me captive. They can do whatever else the hell they want to me. Trust me, Dauphin or no, they had the best of me these past two months. Look at me—I’m weak. I’m young and inexperienced, as far as vampires go. They think I’m some mythical creature, a prophesized savior. Well, you know what I think? I think they’re wrong. I can’t save anyone, least of all myself. I’m just a dead man walking.”

  14 ~ Metamorphosis

  Aidan struggled to sit up, wincing as he did so. He looked entirely drained after that last outburst.

  I offered a hand, tugging him forward as I pushed the bed’s single pillow behind
his back. “You okay?”

  “Just . . . exhausted.”

  I gave his hand a squeeze. “I am not letting you go, Aidan. Seriously. We’ve got to figure something out. We can talk to Matthew, see if he has any ideas.”

  “Matthew? Oh, right. Dr. Byrne. How is that . . . relationship . . . working out?”

  “It’s good. He’s been like a brother to me—an overprotective big brother. And he’s been working on your cure. Actually Matthew, Tyler, and Sophie are all working on it together.”

  “Tyler? Now, that’s a surprise. I thought your little friend was the one who was ready to hand me over to the authorities from the get-go. I should think he’d be gloating.”

  “Nope. Believe it or not, he’s going to be glad that you’re back. Crazy, right?”

  He dropped his gaze, refusing to meet my eyes.

  “Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m serious. You’re not going anywhere.” I tightened my grip on his hand for emphasis.

  “I like that you’re wearing my ring,” he said, changing the subject. “My grandmother’s ring. It looks perfect there, doesn’t it?” He lifted my hand, turning it so he could examine it from all angles. “I noticed it the moment you stepped into Mrs. Girard’s office, you know.”

  “I can’t keep it. Any of it, now that you’re back.”

  “Of course you can. All the paperwork is in order. I assume you found it all?”

  I just nodded.

  “And the flowers? I left very specific instructions.”

  “The flowers were there.” I could still remember their sweet, citrusy scent. “If you were trying to break my heart, you did an excellent job. Just so you know.”

  “I never, ever meant to hurt you.” The pain, the undisguised despair in his eyes nearly stole away my breath.

  I wanted to erase that pain. To heal his broken body, his broken spirit. Leaning in to him, I pressed my lips tenderly against his forehead. His eyes fluttered shut, a low moan escaping his lips as I feathered a kiss over one eyelid, then the other. His arms stole around me, drawing me against him till there was no space between our bodies.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” I murmured, my lips trailing lower, toward the corner of his mouth before moving on to his jaw, his chin. “You’re really and truly here.”

  One of my hands slid under his shirt, across the hard planes of his chest, while the other tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, as silky and soft as ever.

  “Dear God, Violet,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  “Dear God, Violet, what? Keep going?” I paused, my mouth hovering just above his parted lips. “Or dear God, Violet, stop now before you kill me?”

  In response, his head bent toward me, his lips brushing softly against mine. I froze, temporarily paralyzed now, terrified that if I opened my eyes I’d find myself alone, awakened from a hazy dream. He’d be gone, a figment of my overactive imagination.

  Please be real, I silently pleaded. Please.

  When his lips found mine again, they were more persistent—less tentative, more demanding. I let out a whimper, overcome with a sudden sense of familiarity. His taste, his scent—the memories flooded back, overwhelming me. It seemed like both a lifetime ago and just yesterday that he’d last held me in his arms. An eternity and a split second, all at once.

  Desire exploded inside me. Somehow, I ended up straddling him, my knees on either side of his waist as I kissed him back with a hunger I hadn’t even known I’d possessed. There was a fire in my belly now, urgent and hot. I was not letting him go. I was never letting him go.

  His hands were fisted into the bed’s covers now, the air between us electric. Every moan, every shift of his body beneath mine made the fire inside me burn brighter, hotter. We kissed until we were breathless, and then I dragged my mouth away.

  Our gazes met, his eyes as glassy and unfocused as mine, but still rimmed in red. Dangerously red, I realized. Still, the heat in his stare made it impossible for me to stop, to move off him and seek safety before things went too far. Instead, I slid lower, pressing my lips against the side of his neck, down to his collarbone. Pushing aside the soft cotton of his T-shirt, my mouth trailed lower.

  Aidan made a sound deep in his throat and then released his death grip on the covers to grab the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head. I leaned back, my hands resting on the spot where the waistband of his jeans met his bare skin, just below the jutting curve of his hipbones. My breath hitched in my chest, my fingers itching to slip under that waistband, to brush across his silky skin. He wanted it, too—the evidence was pretty hard to ignore. He wouldn’t stop me, not now, no matter how far I decided to push it.

  And it was my decision; that was clear. He was leaving it up to me, patiently waiting while I worked it out in my head.

  Oh, man. This was just so dangerous, in so many ways. But . . . maybe just a little . . . more. The word reverberated around my head, tempting me. More. I would stop when the fangs came out, I resolved. Yes, I could do that. That made sense, would keep things safe.

  At least, as safe as I could be from a vampire who’d clearly been tortured and starved, who hadn’t had access to his elixir since mid-December, who was looking at me now with a burning hunger for who knows what.

  I took a deep, gulping breath and tugged off my own shirt.

  At first his face registered shock, then appreciation. I could feel the weight of his gaze sweep over me, his eyes seeming to darken a hue. With a sigh, I slid down his body, fitting myself against him. The sensation of skin against skin—mine flushed hot, his cold—made butterflies flutter wildly in my stomach. Somehow, we were kissing again, hot, hungry kisses. When I pulled away this time, we were both gasping for air.

  Struggling to catch my breath, I laid my cheek against the taut muscles of his chest. For several minutes we just lay there in silence, my hands idly exploring every curve of his stomach, his shoulders. I listened to the raucous thump, thump of his heart as it pumped the infected, vampire blood throughout his body. His royal vampire blood.

  At the reminder of our predicament, hot tears gathered at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over. “Please stay, Aidan. Please,” I begged, the tears slipping from my eyes and dampening his chest now. “Let’s just agree to Mrs. Girard’s plan for now. Give her what she wants. You know it’s the right thing to do. And then we’ll . . . I don’t know, figure out the rest later.”

  The cure. Matthew and the rest of them could keep working on it in secret. Mrs. Girard had only said that Aidan couldn’t—she had no idea that her most scientifically gifted faculty member had taken up the project’s reins. She had no idea why he’d want to. I was having a hard enough time understanding it myself.

  For me. The thought popped into my head just like that. Matthew was doing it for me, because it’s what I wanted most of all. Because he’d do anything for me. He’d said so himself. And that just made me cry harder.

  “Shhh,” Aidan said, his hands stroking my hair. Despite his weakened physical state, his hands were strong and firm. Comforting. “It’s going to be okay, I promise you, Vi.”

  “Then promise you’ll stay,” I said, choking on the words.

  He reached for my chin, tipping it up, forcing my gaze to meet his tortured one. “Do you really think I could leave you now? After today?” He shook his head determinedly, his jaw set in a hard line. “Never again.”

  But no matter what he said—and how convincing he sounded—I knew it was ripping him up inside. I was sure that, without me factoring into the equation, he’d simply disappear. Off the grid, away from everyone who cared about him. Hunted by his enemies forever.

  But I couldn’t let him live like that. I wouldn’t. Maybe that made me selfish, but I would not extinguish that tiny flame of hope that still burned inside me. I glanced down at the delicate ring on my finger—his ring—knowing that it could never be enough. Just memories and tokens and photographs . . .

  I wanted more. I wanted hi
m—all of him.

  Somehow, we could solve this. Mrs. Girard could have her Dauphin, and eventually Aidan could have his cure. Right now, he wasn’t in any shape to deal with it, to take action or make decisions. I was the strong one now. It was up to me to figure it out, to make it happen. And if I had to move heaven and earth, to slay a thousand vicious vampires—hell, if I had to personally take out Mrs. Girard herself—I would.

  There was not a doubt in my mind that I would.

  15 ~ Wheeling and Dealing

  The deal was struck. For now, Aidan was staying at Winterhaven. Obviously Mrs. Girard needed him badly—or at least she thought she did—because she was willing to give in to pretty much all of our demands.

  She wasn’t quite ready to use him yet, to reveal that she had the Dauphin, so he would remain hidden away at Winterhaven, under Luc’s protection, until needed. Until after graduation, if at all possible. He was allowed his elixir but forbidden to work on his cure. He could travel with me to Atlanta for spring break, but only with Luc accompanying us.

  That particular concession was hard won, but I was unyielding. There was no way of knowing what the future would hold, but I wanted these next few months to be as normal as possible. Maybe “normal” would help bring him back. It was worth a shot. Besides, I needed to see my Gran, and I couldn’t leave Aidan, not when I’d just gotten him back.

  I’d seen him safely to the infirmary—he was in Nurse Campbell’s capable hands now. After dinner, I’d return to check on him, but right now I needed to find Matthew and tell him what was going on. I hoped he was in his office; otherwise, I’d have to go back to my dorm room and get my cell to track him down.

  I was just reaching up to knock on his door when it swung open, nearly knocking me off my feet. “Thank God!” Matthew said, looking strangely pale. Reaching for my elbow, he dragged me inside, kicking shut the door as he did so. “I’ve been going crazy here. What’s going on?”

  I filled him in as best I could. When I finished, Matthew raked one visibly trembling hand through his hair. “That’s completely insane” was all he said.