Tonight and Always

by Linda Lael Miller

  Max's children, the children of her own heart. But she dared not move or speak.

  Benecia stepped daintily into the cottage, and Dathan followed.

  Kristina waited in anguish for something, anything, to happen.

  All that came from inside the cottage was an eerie silence.

  Then Bree and Eliette stepped out, holding hands and seemingly unharmed, although they appeared to be sleepwalking. They looked blindly in Kristina's direction, plainly not seeing her.

  All the same Kristina held her arms out, and they came to her, slowly, and with bewilderment, still entranced. She sank to her knees in the sweet, imaginary grass and gathered them close, terrified that it was too late, that Benecia and Canaan had already done irreparable damage, had begun the process of possession.

  Kristina clutched the speechless children more tightly, weeping now. She would never, never forgive herself if they did not recover. If their souls had been stolen, the blame was hers to bear, for all of time and eternity.

  The scene around them was chillingly idyllic, almost cartoonlike, with twittering birds, a fresh breeze, apple trees blossoming pink and white in a nearby orchard. A butterfly with kaleidoscope wings fluttered past, and the sky was china blue and cloudless.

  A perfect spring day in a place that did not exist.

  "Bree? Eliette?" Kristina spoke softly to the little girls, holding one in the curve of each arm. They were wearing jeans, T-shirts, and sneakers—their after-school clothes, no doubt. Their eyes were absolutely blank, and although they did not resist Kristina's embrace, they didn't cling to her, either.

  Suddenly a terrible shriek pierced the air, coming from inside the cottage. It was immediately followed by another. Then, silence again, more frightening in some peculiar way than the screams had been.

  Kristina stiffened, but if either Bree or Eliette had heard, they gave no sign of it, but simply stood unmoving against her sides, staring at nothing.

  Dathan came outside again, pausing to close the door tidily behind him. His smile bordered on cocky as he met Kristina's gaze; he dusted his hands together, in the time-honored gesture of a job not only completed, but well done. And despite the profound relief she felt, there was also remorse.

  He had destroyed Benecia and Canaan, as promised, and that had been a service to mortals and monsters alike. All the same, they had once been children, those horrid little beasts; it was a matter for sorrow, their perishing, though in all truth they'd died long ago.

  The warlock came to stand over Kristina, gesturing with one graceful hand toward the cottage. There was no sign of the jeweled chalice he had produced at the doorstep, before stepping inside to work his cruel mercies.

  "Go and see for yourself. Kristina. The vow I made to you is now kept."

  Kristina did not want to see, did not want to leave Bree and Eliette for even a moment, but she knew she must go and look upon her dead enemies with her own eyes. If she did not, she would wonder, through all that might remain of her life, if they were truly gone.

  Kristina nodded and got to her feet.

  "Bree and Eliette—?"

  Dathan looked fondly upon Max's children. "They believe they are dreaming."

  "They won't remember?"

  He sighed. "Subconsciously they will know that something weird happened to them. With proper love and care, however, they'll overcome any remaining trauma. The loss of their mother was far worse."

  Kristina's eyes filled as she looked down at these two precious, innocent children. They'd been through so much in their short lives, and she was sick with the knowledge that they would never have encountered Benecia and Canaan, if not for her.

  Once again, Dathan read Kristina's thoughts. "You saved them," he said gently. His hand rested lightly on the small of her back, urging her toward the cottage, which was even then shifting, blurring at the edges. "Bree and Eliette will be safe with me. Go inside, Kristina. Let it be over at long last."

  She walked reluctantly forward, through the swinging gate, up the walk, onto the step. After drawing a deep breath and releasing it very slowly, Kristina pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  The cottage was furnished like a playhouse, with everything to scale. A table had been set with miniature china dishes and a silver tea service. Benecia and Canaan, ludicrous shapes of pulp and powdery ash, slumped in two of the four tiny chairs.

  Dathan's chalice stood between them, with one drop of shimmering warlock's blood still glistening on the brim. It seemed unlikely, given their great age, that they had been tricked into drinking what was, for a vampire, the most potent hemlock. No, Kristina thought sadly, they'd known what they were doing.

  Benecia had wanted, even yearned for, oblivion and peace.

  Canaan had no doubt followed her sister into the darkness voluntarily, preferring death to eternal solitude.

  Kristina turned and left the cottage.

  Dathan, Bree, and Eliette waited in the dooryard. The great warlock held one child in each arm, their heads resting upon his shoulders, sound asleep. For a moment Kristina was reminded of Valerian and the vast tenderness he showed for his adopted son, Esteban.

  "Stand very close," Dathan said, his eyes soft and somehow sad as he surveyed Kristina.

  She nodded and stood with her chest pressed to his, her arms around his neck.

  In an instant they were all in Max's house, in the room Bree and Eliette shared.

  Dathan stood behind Kristina, holding her in a loose embrace, and she knew he had somehow rendered them both invisible.

  Bree and Eliette, meanwhile, were suddenly animated again, sitting on the floor between their two beds, as if nothing had happened, putting two Barbie dolls through a spirited argument.

  "Hey!" Max yelled from downstairs. "The pizza's here. And don't forget to wash your hands!"

  With shrieks of pure joy, Bree and Eliette abandoned the dolls and bounded out of the room. A tear slipped down Kristina's cheek as she listened to their footsteps on the rear stairway.

  "You turned the clock back an hour or so," Kristina said, turning to look up into the splendid face of the warlock. How she wished she could love him, but it was Max she cared for, and Max alone.

  Dathan shrugged. "I thought it would be better this way."

  She nodded. "Thank you, Dathan," she whispered.

  He laid his hands to her shoulders and kissed her, ever so lightly, on the lips. Then, in the next breath, she found herself standing in the middle of her own family room in Seattle. There was no sign of the warlock.

  The telephone rang again, suddenly, shrilly, startling Kristina out of her daze. Her hand trembled as she reached for the receiver.

  "Hi," Max said.

  Kristina held her breath, and her heart swelled like an overfilled balloon, ready to burst. "Hi," she replied.

  "Look, I know you and I didn't exactly part on the best of terms this morning—''

  Kristina closed her eyes, even more grateful than before for Dathan's magic. The kidnapping hadn't happened, as far as Max and the girls were concerned, and he need never know about her encounter with Billy Lasser. "It's okay," she said. They'd made love over and over the night before, at the mountain cabin, and that would sustain her. "Saying good-bye is never easy."

  "No." His voice was gruff. Kristina loved him so much that she very nearly couldn't bear it. "We've got a lot of pizza over here," he said. "How about joining us for supper?"

  Kristina was an emotional wreck, after all she'd been through, and as much as she loved Max and the children, she needed to eat something, take a hot bath, crawl into bed, and sleep. She simply could not spend an evening with the three people she considered to be her family, knowing she was fated to spend the rest of her life as Dathan's mate.

  "I can't, Max," she said softly. "Please understand."

  "I do," he replied, just as softly. There was no sarcasm in his voice.

  She sighed and pushed a hand through her hair, the way she'd seen Max do a hundred times. "There are
a couple of things I need to say," she told him. "I love you. And you don't have to worry anymore, because you and the girls are safe."

  "Kristina—"

  "That's the end of it, Max," she broke in, her eyes burning again. "Good-bye." With that, she hung up.

  The phone rang again immediately, but she ignored the sound until it stopped.

  It was the middle of the night when Kristina awakened, sensing that someone was standing at the foot of her bed. She opened her eyes, mildly alarmed, to find her mother there, looking like a vision in her flowing gown and cascading ebony hair.

  Maeve smiled. "Hello, darling," she said.

  Kristina sat up. "Is everything all right?"

  "I came to ask you the same question. Valerian told me about the incident with that brass monkey of yours."

  Kristina shivered at the memory. "Fortunately that's over. Thanks to Barabbas." She remembered something else Valerian had said. "I hear Dimity and Gideon have been found."

  Maeve took a seat on the edge of Kristina's bed, smoothed her hair back from her forehead with a gentle motion of one cool hand, the way she'd done when Kristina was small. "After a fashion, yes," she said. "Dimity found her way into a parallel dimension, where she can live as a woman instead of a vampire."

  Kristina thought, with some unhappiness, of Benecia, who had wanted to do that, too. "And Gideon?"

  "An angel is, and must always be, an angel. He tried to follow her, but he could not, and he is inconsolable."

  "He loved Dimity very much," said Kristina, who had heard the stories as a child. Too, she knew what it was to care so deeply for someone forbidden.

  "It is denied to angels, that sort of love," Maeve said firmly. "Don't worry. Gideon will be fine in time, and Dimity is happy where she is."

  "And Nemesis? What is his state of mind?"

  Maeve looked grim for a moment. "He is furious, but since all the blame cannot be laid at Dimity's feet, and thus put upon all vampires, he has withdrawn his armies."

  "He had assembled armies?" Kristina whispered. "Are you saying that we—that all of us—were on the brink of Armageddon?''

  "Yes," Maeve answered without hesitation. "But that danger—though it will inevitably come again—is past. You will become Dathan's mate, now that he has lived up to his part of the agreement?''

  Kristina nodded. "I have no choice. And I am grateful for what he did."

  "Gratitude is a poor basis for such a union,'' Maeve said.

  "Yes," Kristina agreed. "But I don't have any alternatives."

  Maeve took Kristina's hand. "No," she answered. "Neither do I, under the circumstances. Still, I have learned some things that I feel you need to know—from Nemesis, as a matter of fact. It was he who told me I would bear a mortal child, before I knew you were growing in my womb."

  "What did he say?" Kristina asked, hardly able to breathe.

  "You are carrying Max's babe," Maeve said.

  Kristina fell back against the pillows, stunned. Full of sorrow and of exultation, in equal measure. She could not speak, though tears slipped down her cheeks.

  "There is more," Maeve went on very gently, her hand tightening on Kristina's. "On some level, you were waiting for Max to come back into your life. You've probably already guessed that he was Gilbert Bradford. In any case, that is the reason you didn't begin aging until recently. You wanted to be in step, so to speak, with Mr. Kilcarragh."

  Kristina let out a long, broken sigh. She'd come so close to complete happiness, so close to living all her dreams. "Perhaps Dathan will change his mind, once he knows I'll bear another man's child."

  Maeve's expression was gently skeptical. "I know this warlock. While he has certain redeeming qualities, he is not above claiming Max's babe as his own. Dathan wants you very badly. Kristina."

  "Can't you help me?"

  The queen's beautiful, ink-colored eyes glittered with vampire tears. "A pact was made and kept. I cannot interfere."

  Kristina nodded and leaned forward to kiss her mother's cheek. "You won't abandon me, will you? Like when I married Michael?"

  "I have often regretted that," Maeve confessed. "No, darling. I shall be available to help you in any way I can. Mayhap you will come to love the warlock one day—it could be, you know, that he is your destiny, after all, rather than Max."

  Although Kristina did not want that to be so, she had already considered the possibility. No doubt Max would find Sandy again, in another lifetime, and anyone he married now could only be an interim love. "Yes," she said. "It could be that Dathan and I were meant to be together, at least for a while. But I shall never love him."

  Maeve embraced her tenderly. "No," she said, understanding. "But there are other joys. And you will surely cherish the child."

  "Do you know about this babe—whether it's a boy or a girl? Mortal or immortal?''

  Maeve smoothed Kristina's tears away with palms as smooth as polished marble. "Nemesis offered no other information than the fact that you and Max had conceived. And I did not ask him to tell me more." The great queen kissed her daughter's forehead. "And now I must hunt. Dream sweet dreams, my darling."

  As surely as if Maeve had cast a spell, Kristina fell immediately back into a deep sleep. When she awakened the next morning to another light snowfall, she wondered if she truly had been dreaming.

  Until she descended into the kitchen and found Dathan standing there, dressed for a wedding, that is. Kristina felt nothing but despair, but some quirk caused her to look down at her long flannel nightie and then at her future groom, her expression rueful.

  "I'm afraid my wedding gown leaves something to be desired," she said.

  Dathan raised his right hand high, palm up, and as he lowered it, a wondrous dress formed itself to Kristina's body. It was made of the finest ivory silk, the skirts embroidered with hundreds of appliquéd doves, outlined in tiny pearls. The bodice was lacy and sprinkled liberally with diamonds.

  "There has never been a more beautiful bride in all of time," Dathan said.

  Kristina swallowed hard. Dathan conjured a small hand mirror, and she saw that her veil, a trail of gossamer white netting, tumbled from a circlet of small white orchids on the crown of her head.

  "Okay," she said, resigned. "So where's the preacher?"

  Dathan arched an eyebrow. "It isn't done in exactly that way," he said.

  "Then how is it done?"

  "We will simply clasp hands and make a promise to each other."

  "Here?", Kristina asked. "In the kitchen?"

  Dathan sighed. "Wherever you wish, my darling. Just name the place, and we'll be there in a moment."

  "Beside the point," observed a third voice.

  Both Dathan and Kristina turned in surprise to see Valerian standing just a few feet away. Given the fact that it was broad daylight, that was amazing.

  "How—?" Kristina croaked.

  "Call it astral projection," Valerian said with an impatient wave of one hand. "I'm a magician, remember?" His gaze was fixed on Dathan, and the vampire looked as solid as he ever had. "There is a point in human wedding ceremonies that I rather like," he told the warlock. "The clergy member always says, 'Is there anyone here who can give just cause why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony?' "

  Dathan flushed. "I am not human," he pointed out in a dangerously even voice.

  "But Kristina is," Valerian offered reasonably. "Furthermore, I can show just cause. She loves one Max Kilcarragh—has waited a hundred years to be his wife. Even now, his child is curled beneath her heart—a heart in which Max, not you, will always live."

  Dathan looked down at Kristina. "Is this true? The part about the child, I mean?"

  Kristina nodded. She guessed she hadn't dreamed her mother's late-night visit after all.

  "Can you never learn to love me?" the warlock asked.

  A great sadness welled up within Kristina. '"No," she said.

  "If you care for Kristina," Valerian put in, very gently and very carefully, "you will
set her free."

  "We had a bargain!"

  "And only you have the power to break it," Valerian reasoned quietly.

  "Damn you," Dathan spat, glaring at the vampire. "How dare you speak of bargains? You once promised me a bride, and instead you set Roxanne Havermail on me like a mad dog!"

  Valerian tried his very best to look contrite, but there was, Kristina thought, a certain merry twinkle in his eyes. "A nasty trick, I confess. Allow me to rectify the matter."

  Dathan narrowed his gaze upon the fiend, while Kristina just stood there, resplendent in her conjured wedding dress, apparently forgotten. She did not want to remind the warlock of her presence before Valerian had made his point.

  "Why should I trust you?" Dathan demanded.

  "Kristina's happiness is at stake," Valerian replied. "She is like my own child, and only Daisy and Esteban matter more. I would not play you false in such a case as this."

  Dathan turned and looked down into Kristina's upraised face. "So beautiful," he whispered, almost regretfully.

  "But so mortal," Valerian said. "There is a female vampire—I have trained her myself—by the name of Shaleen. Meet me this night on the north entrance to All Soul's Cathedral in London, and I will prove myself truthful."

  "If you lie—'' Dathan murmured.

  Kristina held her breath. She wasn't even sure her heart was beating.

  "If I lie, you have only to come and take Kristina back."

  Dathan considered, while Kristina flashed her "guardian vampire" a scathing look. She hadn't wanted that last option to be part of the deal.

  "Well?" Valerian finally prompted.

  Dathan gave a great sigh. "All right," he said. He kissed Kristina, first on the forehead, then on each eyelid. When she looked again, he was gone, and so was Valerian. The magical wedding dress had turned back into a chenille bathrobe.

  "Cinderella, eat your heart out," Kristina muttered.

  She waited three full days before she called Max, just in case Dathan's blind date with the vampire, Shaleen, had gone wrong. During that time, Kristina busied herself by sorting through old papers and other things she no longer needed or wanted. She read the last of her letters to Phillie and burned all of them.