Double Image

by Jaye Roycraft

  “Dallas, what are these unpleasant creatures doing here?”

  Dallas let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “You trust me to tell you the truth?”

  “More than I trust them.”

  That wasn’t saying a lot, but it was a start. He took a deep breath. “Drago gave me some very specific instructions regarding you. He and . . . Juliana . . . are here to make sure I follow those instructions.”

  “I don’t understand. What instructions?”

  “He feels you’ve witnessed too much. That with all you’ve learned you’re a danger to us.”

  Her mouth opened, as if to ask another question, but she didn’t. He could see comprehension flood her eyes. Finally the words she didn’t want to voice were spoken. “What are you supposed to do with me?”

  Dallas turned her so that she faced him. “Transform you to one of us. Or kill you outright. It was my choice.”

  Tia twisted her arm back to dislodge the grip he still had on her shoulder, but it was to Drago she whirled in anger. “You son of a bitch! Why didn’t you just do it when you had the chance? Or don’t you like doing your own dirty work?”

  Drago’s smile disappeared. “It would have been my pleasure, mademoiselle, not ‘dirty work.’ However, you are Allgate’s problem to solve, not mine.”

  Tia confronted Dallas again, but took a step back at the same time. “And just which option did you decide on?”

  He looked at her. “Neither.” He moved between Tia and the enforcers and faced Drago. “I won’t do it, Drago. I won’t kill her. And if you try to take her from me, I’ll fight you. Both of you. I know I’m no match for you. You’ve impressed that on me more than enough times, but I’ll fight you anyway.”

  All semblance of life seemed to shrink from behind Drago’s features. His skin hung slack on the underlying facial bones, and the hooded blue eyes showed no movement. When at last he spoke, it was as if his lips didn’t move to mouth the words. “She’ll die either way, monsieur. And do you really want her to witness your going to la Belle Mort? It’s not a pretty sight.”

  Dallas saw Juliana, just behind Drago. In contrast to Drago’s, Juliana’s eyes were everywhere, and the hardness in her face seemed to take on a fragility, as if it would crack.

  He looked at Drago. “You would really kill me, Drago?”

  Drago’s blue eyes showed a sharp focus, but no emotion. The only telltale sign on the lax face was the vertical furrow between his eyebrows. “I should not relish killing you, but if you oppose me so strongly you leave me no other option, I would do it, certainement. Do not make the mistake of thinking I wouldn’t, mon ami.”

  Dallas believed him. Strangely, though, he didn’t feel any fear. All his anxiety and exhaustion had lifted the moment Tia had stepped to his side. “I don’t seek the True Death, but I’m not afraid of it. And Tia has seen death before.”

  The crease in Drago’s brow deepened. “And it frightens her, does it not? She hides it well, but I can see the fear in her as plain as day. Or as night. And what about you, monsieur? Are you truly prepared to die? I don’t think so. You’re a survivor, Allgate. She’s just a human, after all. Think about it, and you won’t let it come to this.”

  “I respect your power, Drago, and I trust your word when you say you have no compunction against killing me. But also know that my word is given no more lightly than yours is. I mean what I say.”

  “Do not throw down the gauntlet at me, monsieur. You will regret it.”

  Before Dallas could answer, Juliana strode forward. “You’re wrong, Drago. Dallas is a survivor, true. He always has been. But I know him better than you ever will. He’s strong, but his strength comes from his convictions, not brutality. If he says he won’t kill the chook, he won’t, and nothing you can say or do will make him change his mind.”

  All eyes turned on Juliana. Enough life flowed back into Drago’s face for him to lock his brows together in disapproval. “May I remind you, ma cherie, that you are here as my representative?”

  Her dark eyes flashed. “I’m not here to be your rubber stamp, Drago. I’m here because I know Dallas. And I’m telling you he won’t back down.”

  Drago’s upper lip nearly vanished, baring his teeth. “You forget yourself, cherie. Don’t make me remind you again.”

  Juliana shook her head, the flounce of her mane of dark hair seeming to give her slight frame more height and bulk. “I’m stating my opinion, Drago, nothing more. Isn’t that one of the reasons I’m here?”

  “Opinion, cherie, or opposition? Your voice seems to be imbued more with the latter than the former.”

  Juliana took two more steps away from Drago and widened her stance. “You don’t like opposition, do you? What are you so afraid of? Are we such a threat to you, Drago?”

  One of Drago’s brows slowly arched. “We?”

  She walked up to Dallas, looked him square in the eye, then turned to stand at his side. “Fight him if you must, Drago, but you’ll have to fight me, too.”

  Drago stared. “I can have you banned from the Council for all eternity for this little display of insubordination. Is it worth it?”

  Dallas stared at her as well.

  Juliana’s eyes looked up at him and widened, and some of their hardness melted away. For the first time since she arrived, she looked like the woman he remembered in his memories. A small smile softened her hard mouth as well, and she turned back to Drago. “Neither of us wants to oppose you, Drago. Conviction isn’t the same thing as opposition.”

  Drago’s expression remained hard. “You didn’t answer my question, cherie.”

  Her smile faded. “It’s worth it,” she said without hesitation.

  One brow canted. “And if such a fight means death?” asked Drago.

  “I’ve already been dead for two hundred years. I once loved this man more than anything on earth. If standing by his side means the True Death, I can think of no better way to end this agony of existence.”

  Drago’s second brow cocked. A muscle in his cheek twitched. Then, as if by magic, life seemed to pump again through his veins, animating his features. The long smile lines popped in and out, and the hard, chiseled mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Much as I love to plague Nikolena, I don’t think it would be prudent, even for me, to submit a report detailing the deaths of three vampires. She will throw enough of a fit as it is.” He faced Tia and gave her a small bow. “Very well, mademoiselle. I once again use my discretion. You may live. With conditions, of course.”

  Dallas felt each of the women at his side let out a slow breath in response to the ease in tension, but immediately had a new dilemma. He wasn’t sure which female to next give his attention to. Drago solved the problem for him.

  “Come outside with me, Tia. Let Allgate have a word with Juliana. He hasn’t seen her in two hundred years.”

  Tia didn’t budge from Dallas’ side. “If you think I’m going anywhere with you, Drago, you’re crazy.”

  It was Juliana who now came to Drago’s defense. “You’ll be safe with Drago. He’s as honorable in his own way as Dallas is. He’s given you life. He won’t ever take that away from you.”

  Dallas could still see the doubt in Tia’s eyes. He put his hands on her shoulders. “She’s right. He won’t hurt you now. Give us just a few moments, will you?”

  Tia nodded, clearly still not liking it, but trusting him. Trusting him. Those two words still sounded so foreign to him. Still, she did as he asked, and slowly followed Drago to the veranda, looking back at Dallas only once.

  Dallas waited until Drago and Tia were outside before he turned to Juliana. “Thank you for what you did. I’ve both felt and witnessed Drago’s wrath. You put yourself at great risk.”

  Juliana tilted her head to the side. “It was a calculated risk. Drago admires straight
-up fortitude.”

  He led Juliana into the parlor. “As long as it’s not laced with too much disrespect.”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  They sat on a sofa upholstered in a brocade of sky blue and white. “You won’t suffer later for your ‘insubordination,’ will you?”

  She smiled, the first one Dallas had seen on her face since she arrived on his stoop. “I’ll get one of Drago’s patented tongue-lashings, perhaps. I don’t think he’ll do more. In any case, it’ll have been worth it. That was the truth. I did it for you, Dal, not for the chook. I want you to know that.”

  “I know. Tell me, are you happy being an enforcer?”

  The smile faded, but she nodded. “I was a convict for over ten years. Yes, even after all this time, it feels good to be one of those who wields the power.”

  “We were happy, you and I.”

  “We were convicts, Dal. No better than slaves. We did nothing but work day after day in servitude to make MacArthur richer than he already was. I released myself from that, and I wanted to release you, too. You always talked about life, about surviving . . . ”

  “Life, yes. And tell me, did you find ‘life’ in your release?”

  “A life. As did Drago, as did you, as do all the Undead. I’ve tried to make the best of it.”

  He reached out and touched a wavy tendril of her hair. “I loved you. I always wondered if you knew how much.”

  She pushed his hand down, but gently. “I did know, but don’t do this, Dal. Just don’t. It’s pointless to talk about such things now.”

  He shook his head. “Why, Sabra? Why did you bring me across? And why did you leave? I was using MacArthur as much as he was using me. I would have found a way for him to free us—I know I would have.”

  She tried to harden her expression, but her eyes betrayed her pain. “When I was transformed, I had no idea what was happening. It was something I stumbled across in the bush by mistake. Once I realized what I had done, I knew there was no future for us. Everything I had wanted vanished overnight, replaced by desires I knew you wouldn’t understand. The only thing I had left to give you was the gift. I thought it would help you. You had struggled so hard to survive, and you wanted so much to live. I foolishly thought I was doing you a favor. The ‘gift of eternal life.’”

  Life. The mockery of life that was Midexistence burned in his throat as he tried to talk. “But why did you leave? We could have still worked together, helped each other. I was lost for a long time, Sabra, not knowing any others of our kind.”

  She averted her eyes from him. “I told you. My desires changed. I no longer had any interest in MacArthur’s ranch, his sheep, any of it. And you . . . you were lost to me, Dal. Lost forever. Let’s stop this. There’s no point in reliving the past or in wishing for what might have been. What happened, happened. There’s no changing it and no turning back.”

  He considered her words for a heartbeat, then nodded his agreement. It was pointless, yes, with Sabra. He reached for her and gently pulled her to him. There was no joy in her response, but she didn’t resist the embrace. “No, love, there’s no turning back,” he whispered into her hair.

  TIA TRAILED DRAGO to the patio, but once there, he remained standing while he bade her sit.

  “Would you care for something cool to drink, mademoiselle?”

  “Ah, I don’t think Gillie’s still up.”

  He inclined his head to her. “It would be my pleasure to bring you something. Providing you don’t take the opportunity to try to run away again.”

  “Don’t worry. Being waited on by the chief honcho of all vampires . . . this I have to see.”

  “I’m hardly the ‘chief honcho,’” he commented dryly before bowing and disappearing. She was glad for the few minutes alone. She tried to relax in the lounge chair, but found herself shaking as if she’d just gotten off the wildest roller coaster ride of her life. She hadn’t felt her heart pounding at the time, but now that it was over, she realized how much of a shock tonight had been. Seeing Dallas after she’d resigned herself to never looking into those green eyes again had been traumatic enough, but to learn that Juliana was Sabra was just as shocking. That her life had nearly been forfeit almost seemed overshadowed by the feelings that now threatened to swamp her. Dallas had just risked his very life for her. But was it really for her, or just for his convictions? And now he was with Sabra, the first woman he had ever loved. Tia had almost felt like the runner up in a pageant when Dallas had first seen the women at the front door. His green eyes had been all on Sabra, not her.

  Drago appeared in the doorway, framed by the French doors and backlit by the lamplight from the room beyond. He looked the archetype of eighteenth century elegance with his long locks tied at the nape of his neck, not a hair out of place, and the white poet’s shirt that streamed from his shoulders like a living work of art.

  “Mademoiselle?”

  He held out a tall glass of lemonade to her, and she took it, careful not to brush his fingers with hers. In spite of his benevolent demeanor, she still didn’t trust him. In fact, the more gracious he was to her, the more suspicious she became.

  “Thank you. What do you want with me now, Drago?”

  He draped himself on the fainting couch, and the inner tips of his brows lifted in a show of hurt feelings. “Why, Tia! What makes you think I still want something from you?”

  She took a sip of the lemonade and almost choked on it. “Because you’re being far too nice to me, and the one thing you are definitely not, is nice.”

  He put a hand over his heart, drawing her eyes to the expanse of bare chest visible at the open neckline. “You wound me, mademoiselle. All I wish is a little chat.”

  She remembered the last time he said he wanted nothing more than “a little chat,” and she shivered. She longed to be with Dallas. “Can we just get on with this?”

  He smiled. “As you wish. I need to know what your true feelings are for monsieur Allgate, and what it is you intend to do now.”

  She set the drink down on a small table. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  Drago locked his hands behind his head, and the hooded eyes reminded Tia of a cat that gives the appearance of being half asleep. “Ah, but it is my business. I gave you life, and Juliana was correct when she said I’ll never take that away from you. But I still have a responsibility to my own kind to protect them from the harm of discovery. The extent of your feelings for Allgate will determine how comfortable I am with the knowledge you possess.”

  “I’m not going to tell anyone what I know, if that’s what you mean. As far as what I intend to do now, I don’t know yet.”

  He just looked at her through shuttered eyes, appraising her, and she wished he’d go away again. She couldn’t relax with him lounging next to her, and she couldn’t think about Dallas with him so close. If she tried to, she was afraid Drago would snatch the thoughts right out of her head.

  Finally, he lowered his arms and crossed them over his chest. “Very well, mademoiselle. I believe you. Just remember that it is a very heavy responsibility you carry with you from now on. Treat it as such.”

  “Oh, I don’t take any of this lightly.”

  “Good.” He rose with the lightness of a child. “I’ll leave you to your own devices for a while. The three of us have more business to discuss. Besides, it takes no great intellect to see that you don’t particularly enjoy my companionship.”

  “Don’t take it personally. I just tend to have an aversion to people . . . or things . . . who want to see me dead.”

  Drago smiled. “Believe it or not, mademoiselle, I like you. I don’t say that to too many people, human or otherwise. Here.” A business card appeared in his hand as if by magic. “If ever you or Dallas need help, call upon me.”

  Tia couldn’t imagine any situation that
would prompt her to call Drago for help, but she took the card and smiled in return. “Thank you.”

  He bowed in acknowledgment. “De rien, mademoiselle. Au revoir.”

  She glanced down at the card, and when she looked up, he was gone. She stared at the card again, holding it up so that the light spilling from the French doors illuminated it. All it contained was “Alek Dragovich” and a phone number.

  Now that Drago was gone, Tia could think about Dallas, but the thoughts still didn’t come easily. The facts were hard to dismiss. She had left Dallas, and the only reason she was back now was because Drago had dragged her back. But now that she was back, did she want to stay? She had seen Dallas as vengeful, manipulative, and dangerous. Tonight she had seen a side displaying honor, courage, and loyalty. How could she know which side portrayed the true man? And if both sides were a part of him, as she suspected they were, how could she reconcile the one with the other?

  Her heart laughed, ignoring the logic of her mind. In her heart she yearned for Dallas with a desire she had never had before—a blind desire that didn’t care what he was or what he had done in the past. She had always felt safe with him. More than that, though, was the understanding he had of all the dark and tormented places in her soul. No other man she had ever met had come close to having that kind of understanding.

  She laughed again, but this time the sound was bitter. What she wanted might not matter at all. She really had no idea what kind of feelings Dallas had for her, if any. And now there was Sabra. Dallas could very well decide he wanted to be part of her existence again. None of Tia’s questions could be answered until she spoke with him alone. She curled up on the lounge chair to wait. It had been a very long night, and it promised not to end anytime soon.

  DRAGO LOOMED IN the arched doorway leading into the parlor, coming no further into the room, yet making his presence felt solely through his appearance. He leaned against the archway, his left arm stroking his chin and his right arm crossed over his chest.