by Caris Roane
As he soaped up, he took deep breaths and began ordering his mind and his future steps. He would make it clear he could never see her again.
She didn’t have to understand. This was his decision.
He scrubbed his body hard. He needed to get rid of her scent because he could still smell it on his skin. He soaped and rinsed again. But when he held his arm up to his nose, dammit if her scent wasn’t still on him.
What had she done? Was this some kind of fae thing that she could make his skin keep smelling like wildflowers?
He was getting pissed. She had to be doing something to him. All this craving and unexpected sex. Her scent.
He dipped his head under the water again. Something nagged at him. Why, for instance, had he craved her so badly? Was it something in her blood? Had it affected him? Was that why he’d been able to defeat a deadly wraith?
He looked down at his stomach. His soapy hand was rubbing in a slow circle just below his sternum.
What had Emily done to him?
His stomach.
His hand fell away.
Holy fuck.
He had no pain.
For the first time in decades, he had no pain. And he hadn’t since he’d taken from her wrist while in the time-path.
Every mastyr vampire suffered from chronic blood starvation no matter how many times a day he fed. It was a result of gaining mastyr-level power. Crippling stomach cramps followed, something each mastyr had to live with.
Yet, the only time a mastyr experienced a cessation of this pain was when he fed from a realm woman known as a blood rose.
His whole body fell to vampire stillness.
His mind whirred.
No.
It wasn’t possible.
Her scent. It called to him even now. And what did she say about him, that she smelled oak and lemons coming off his skin, his hair, his body.
He murmured a long string of obscenities. This couldn’t be happening. Not to Kyle’s fiancé, not to the woman who had kissed him in a coffee shop mistaking him for Kyle, not to the woman he’d secretly longed for the entire time she dated his brother. It seemed like the cruelest joke.
He’d lost his brother because of his own anger. Kyle had wanted to change, to do better by Emily. He would have. For all Kyle’s faults, once he made a commitment, he would stick.
Emily was Kyle’s.
Rinsing the rest of the soap from his body, he shut the water off. He quickly buffed dry with a towel then wrapped it around his hips. He remembered he’d pretty much left Emily without support and they’d just had sex without a condom. Sweet Goddess, he’d come twice.
He brought her a washcloth and handed it to her. She thanked him, then tucked it between her legs. She lay on her side and pulled the comforter over her, maybe against the chill of the room. At least he couldn’t see her nakedness again.
Her eyes looked red-rimmed, though, and she didn’t meet his gaze. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, but she didn’t look at him. He wasn’t sure what to tell her.
“I’ve been lying here thinking about you and about me. Then I got to wondering about all that’s happened tonight.” She took a deep breath. “I’m a blood rose, aren’t I?”
He stared at her. “How did you figure it out?”
“I’ve read the blogs. I know the process, I just never thought I would be one of them. I mean, after you went into the bathroom, what I couldn’t figure out was why you brought me back here when a half hour earlier you made it clear we could never be together.
“At first, I thought it was because I’d fed you, healed you and strengthened you. But then I thought, even if that was the case, why would my blood suddenly be so helpful? I’d never seen a wound heal so quickly.
“But it wasn’t just that. I did things I would normally never risk doing because I didn’t have the skills. Like the troll child. I caught her midair and got her out of the battle zone. I didn’t even think about it. I just did it. Devyn, that’s not like me on any front.”
She put a hand to her chest. “And I felt heavy here all night, until you fed just a few minutes ago. Now, I feel wonderful.”
His hair was still dripping from the shower. He smoothed out some of the water and let it fall onto the towel covering his lap.
Facing away from her as he was, he then leaned forward and balanced his elbows on his knees. He put his head in his hands as he’d done earlier.
“Devyn, I have no interest in pressuring you about this. About any of it. You’re a good man, you’re the vampire I want, that I’ve always wanted. The only thing I did wrong was not to believe in my worth more than I did. I settled for Kyle. I know you don’t want to hear that. I loved your brother, but you are twice the man he was.”
When she chuckled, he turned to frown at her. “Why are you laughing? You’ve just said something terrible about the man you were going to marry. About my brother.”
“I’m laughing, Dev, because he used to say the same thing about you all the time. He lived in your shadow. You were a mastyr vampire. He wasn’t.”
He shifted toward her. “That’s not fair. Kyle chose not to rise to mastyr level. Did he ever tell you that?” His words came out harsher than he’d intended. He felt surprisingly angry, but at whom?
She didn’t seemed distressed at all, either by his outburst or his question. Instead, she cocked her head. “What do you mean? Kyle never told me that. I didn’t even know a choice could be made.”
“I don’t know if it’s true for every vampire, but we each reached a point in the process when it was clear we could refuse the challenge. From the first, when we both got wind of what was happening to us, Kyle wanted no part of it. He rejected the whole thing. He saw what other mastyrs endured, including me, and he said he could do without the pain. Life was hard enough.”
“Oh, that is so Kyle.” She rolled onto her back which had the unfortunate effect of pulling the comforter down enough to expose her breasts.
He was a man, so of course his gaze got stuck on her nipples which became firm in the cool air. He licked his lips.
She laughed again as she pulled the comforter over her body. “You know, if I was any kind of demoness, I’d go after you with everything a woman has got. I’d manipulate the hell out of you. I’d break into your house and dance naked on your bed til you pulled me under you and had your way. Repeatedly.”
She sat up. “But I’m having none of it, dammit. Either you want me or you don’t. But know this, Mastyr Devyn, I’ll have to take a mate soon. You’ve already felt the call of my blood rose ability. I’m thinking I’ll start with an online screening process. I’ll say, ‘Are You a Mastyr in Need of a Blood Rose? Do You Want to Get Rid of Chronic Blood Starvation Forever?’ I could have each vampire fill out an application then I’d have my pick.”
He stood up half-aroused, half-irritated by the whole conversation. She drew the comforter around her tighter still, then dragged herself and it off the bed.
She had to push past him, but the comforter was way too big. She started knocking things askew, a cushion on a chair, a clock on a low table by the doorway, a book.
Eventually, she let the comforter fall away and levitated swiftly to the bathroom.
He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help check her out before she disappeared. She had a beautiful body, he’d just made love to her, and she’d ended his chronic blood starvation, at least temporarily.
He’d have to be some kind of idiot to let her leave his house.
But images of his brother, his love for him and his own responsibility for his death, took over once more. The weight of his guilt knocked him down yet again.
Emily would always remind him of what he’d done, how he’d failed Kyle.
Letting her go was the only thing he could do or he swore he’d go insane.
Chapter Four
As Emily showered, her thoughts turned oddly enough to Rosam
unde. She’d seen footage of the final battle in which Margetta had been defeated. Rosamunde had been mated to Mastyr Stone at that point and had fought alongside him and the rest of the ruling mastyrs of the Nine Realms.
Despite her rise in power, she’d almost died.
Emily recalled many of the blogs of the different blood roses. They’d all become women of unusual power. One of them had the ability to help shifter packs work together. Another had hunted down a serial killer, even though her mate hadn’t been a ruling mastyr. Same as Devyn. There were many, many mastyr vampires throughout the realms, each with a different level of power. Only nine ruled an entire realm, like Stone.
For herself, she still couldn’t believe she’d carried a troll child to safety. Her effort wasn’t on the level of some of the feats she’d read about. She certainly hadn’t destroyed an evil so great it had lasted a thousand years. Neither had she brought a killer to justice. But she had saved Devyn’s life. Tonight.
As she soaped up, she forced herself through a rigorous life review. She was actually quite young by realm standards, only in her mid-forties. To some extent she had plenty of time to make her mark, if that was her desire.
When she thought about Devyn, she realized one of the things she admired was his dedication as a Guardsmen. He frequently worked double shifts unlike Kyle.
Kyle liked to party. So had she, when she’d first met him. Kyle was fun.
Yet it was Devyn, with his chosen rise to mastyr power, his work ethic, and his more serious demeanor that had stolen her soul.
She wondered suddenly if one of the reasons she loved him, even craved him, was because she wanted to be like him. Maybe she did. She admired him so much.
When she was done showering, she grabbed a towel from the rack. Nearby was the hamper and on top of it were her clothes folded in a neat pile, ready for her.
Her heart started to ache all over again. This was what she loved about Devyn, something she could never have taught Kyle in a gazillion years. Devyn was just plain thoughtful.
Her throat grew very tight. She knew Devyn was weighed down with his guilt over Kyle’s death. She also doubted he’d ever be able to overcome those feelings. He was a twin and he’d loved his reckless, fun-loving brother.
When she was dressed, she found Devyn sipping a glass of Scotch at the large, gray granite island in the kitchen. The entire great room felt like him, open and spacious, with black leather yet a lot of warm brown wood to soften the clean, modern feel. It wasn’t a bachelor’s pad. A grown-up man lived here.
He seemed settled within his spirit. “I’ll take you home when you’re ready.”
“I can get there by myself.”
“I want to. It wouldn’t seem right somehow.”
Not even when he was breaking her heart? “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Maybe.” He shook his head and chuckled, then sipped his Scotch. “Well, you can ask. That’s all I can promise.”
“Seems fair because you know this won’t be a simple question.”
He met her gaze over the rim of his tumbler. His brown eyes glimmered from the island pendant lights. Was she really going to ask him this?
Sometimes courage came in many forms and right now she felt a bit lacking. When she hesitated, a voice whispered to her. Kyle again. Push him, Em. He needs it.
She gasped softly.
“What is it?” Devyn asked. “What’s wrong?”
She moved closer to him. “I know this is going to seem really strange, but for a moment, I thought I heard Kyle. That probably seems ridiculous.” She didn’t mention she’d experienced something similar in Millerell.
His brows rose then he shook his head. “I sometimes imagine hearing him, too. Usually, he’s yelling at me.”
“About what?” She couldn’t help but smile.
“That I need to make a life for myself, that I’m an idiot, that I shouldn’t live in the past.”
It was time to ask her question. “What happened that night, the night Kyle died? I need to know. In fact, I believe I have a right to know.”
He met her gaze straight on. “You’ve read the report. Five Invictus pairs. In that sense, you know as much as I do.”
“And you know that’s not what I meant. I know the battle details but what I don’t know is why you weren’t with him that night. You always fought side-by-side as Guardsmen. What happened?”
His nostrils flared. “I wasn’t there for him, okay? I got him killed. That’s what you want to know, isn’t it?”
She ignored his raised voice. “Not exactly. Why weren’t you there? That’s the hard question, the thing I believe I really need to know so I can understand the whole picture.”
He rocked his glass. “The whole picture. And that’s what you want?”
“I believe I deserve to know. I was engaged to him, you weren’t there, you feel responsible for his death and therefore you believe yourself unworthy of being my mate. Devyn, what happened between you and Kyle that night?”
He stared into his drink. His jaw shifted from side to side. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry with him as I was that night. I couldn’t be around him. I was afraid I’d start hitting him and never stop.”
This was the answer she’d been hunting for. Yet, now that he’d begun, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the rest.
Once more, she plucked up her courage. “Please tell me what happened.”
He sipped again. She didn’t press him further. All she could do was wait. Whatever chance she had of setting things right and having a shot at a future with Devyn hinged on this moment. Maybe if he talked about what happened, he’d be able to move on.
He leaned over the island, settling his forearms on the beautiful striated polished stone. He wore black and his tumbler held amber whisky. The part of her that was an artist thought it would make a beautiful photograph. All very Devyn.
He released a heavy sigh but he didn’t look at her. “I caught him cheating on you. He was coming out of a hotel, he pushed this woman up against the wall then shoved his tongue down her throat. I hated him for it. I still do.”
The images were visceral, yet not surprising. She’d had her suspicions for months, from the time Kyle had given her an engagement ring. Even then, even that night, which should have been the happiest of her life, she knew something wasn’t working in her relationship with him.
“I took him apart, Em. I shouted so many obscenities, there on the street, the owner of the hotel called the local police on us. Kyle promised to do better, to do right by you. But I was so angry. I refused to go on patrol with him.
“He called me three times around midnight. But I wouldn’t pick up. And I didn’t listen to the messages until several nights later, long after I’d identified him in the morgue. He’d called me for back-up. He was in trouble. Shit, five wraith-pairs and only four Guardsmen. Not one of them a mastyr.
“I learned he’d been a hero that night, just as you did. The three other squad members survived because Kyle had fought like a maniac and had sacrificed himself at a critical moment.”
Emily had heard some of this at the memorial service during Kyle’s pyre ceremony. The Guardsmen had built it tall, one of the tallest she’d seen, a tribute to his sacrifice.
She could have easily told Devyn he was blaming himself unrealistically. How could he have known Kyle and his squad would end up in a battle beyond their ability?
She also knew Devyn. If there’d been a situation designed to leave him broken the rest of his life, this was it. They were twins. Devyn was the responsible one and he’d failed his brother. She now understood the depth of his guilt. He might never be able to forgive himself even though no one blamed him, not even his parents.
She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for telling me.” She accessed her time-pathing frequency.
He must have felt the soft vibrations because he rose up straighter. “Wait, I said I would take you home.”
“You know by
now it’s not difficult for me to move around and I don’t need an escort. I’ll see you later.” The last part was a lie. She suspected she wouldn’t be seeing Devyn for a long time, and then probably only by accident.
She slipped into the time-path, though she didn’t leave his house right away. Instead, she watched him through the blur of the continuum and just looked at him.
She loved him. She always would. But she’d lost him to his grief and to his guilt the night Kyle died. Her presence would only serve as a reminder that he’d failed his brother.
She didn’t know what else she could do to encourage his heart toward her. But right now, she had her own serious problem to resolve. She was a blood rose and she would need to take a mastyr vampire as a mate sooner than later.
The blogs had spelled it out for her, how quickly she’d be pursued by every mastyr in Tannisford as well as the rest of the realms once it became known what she was. She suspected she didn’t even have weeks before her situation turned critical.
Devyn’s issues might take years to resolve.
She turned physically within the time-path and pictured her home in Millerell, her shrine to earth-based, French influences.
A moment later, she stepped into the sitting room overlooking her small backyard. The room was her sanctuary. She’d done it up in soft pastels of pink and green, lots of florals, a few antiques. Despite how much she loved her home, even her favorite room didn’t bring the peace she sought.
She wondered how on earth she was going to live even the next few nights as an unbonded blood rose. Then she wondered how she would ever live with a moment’s contentment without Devyn.
That was when she simply curled up in her overstuffed floral chair and wept.
~ ~ ~
A week later, Devyn sat in Stone’s living room opposite the ruling mastyr. He’d long since given his report about the battle in Millerell, but he supposed Stone wanted more details.
Across the room, Stone poured two whiskeys into a pair of glass tumblers. He was frowning, thoughtful. Something was on his mind.