The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

by Trisha Telep

  “Who was she?” Katrina asked.

  Kyle leaned forwards and pushed himself up from his chair.

  She placed a quick hand on his arm as he began to bow and she tried not to flinch at the glare he gave her. “Tell me,” she insisted, cutting off any farewell he’d been about to make. “Yes, I’ve learned a lot from Nik, but no one needs any kind of special reading ability to see that you’re upset over something. That so doesn’t mesh with everything I’ve been told about you,”

  “Perhaps what you’ve been told about me is not only the truth, but how it should be. Now, release me, Katrina,” Kyle ordered.

  Katrina ignored the warning in his tone and shook her head. “Uh-uh,” she denied vocally. “Squirm all you want. Go ‘poof if you want to; it will just prove you’re a wuss.”

  “ ‘Wuss’?” Kyle echoed.

  “American slang for ‘wimp’,” Katrina clarified. “Coward, loser, chicken—”

  “All right, I understand,” Kyle said wryly. “I won’t go ‘poof. And the correct term is ‘shift’, not ‘poof.”

  “Whatever,” Katrina said, smiling up at him. She removed the gentle, restraining hand on his arm and sat back in her seat. “You’re really tall. I thought Nik was tall, but you have him beat. But you’re not big. Nik has muscles—”

  “Please tell me I’m not being subjected to this to fulfil some strange comparison fantasy of yours,” Kyle cut her off as he returned to the chair he’d been occupying. He reached for his glass. “Is Nikolai lacking in some way?”

  Katrina shook her head.

  “You’re alone, and I know how lonely it gets,” she said. “I mean, it’s been less than a year for me, being . . . not like everyone else. Most days I’m OK with it, especially if Nik is around, but sometimes being ‘alone’ gets to me, even if I am something of a queen.”

  “I wouldn’t downplay the importance of your role here, Katrina. You’d hurt Nikolai’s feelings, not to mention those of the others,” he said gently. “You’re not ‘something of a queen’. You are the queen of Clan Destrati, wife of Sovereign Nikolai Peityr. It pleases me to see that he hasn’t gone the way of Dominic by having you sit as his right hand on the Council.”

  Katrina lowered her eyes and shook her head. “I thought everyone should get used to me being around before I try to change the way they govern themselves. But Nikolai is gone so often, attending things like that, and I can’t help but feel lost and alone.”

  She looked back up at Kyle and shrugged a little, chagrined. “Though I’m sure that sounds pathetic, coming from me, considering how long . . . How long have you been alone?”

  “I do not wish to have this discussion,” Kyle said as he poured himself another glass of what Nikolai had informed him was goat’s blood obtained from a local butcher. It certainly had the taste of livestock to it, and was unlike the cattle blood he was accustomed to.

  It would not sustain him at all. Unlike the others of his supposed ilk, he needed human blood to maintain his form and powers. “To live off those he betrayed his Master for.” That was the curse. Ironic and fitting.

  Kyle often found a great deal of humour in irony.

  “Kyle.”

  Katrina’s voice recalled his attention.

  “Yes? I’m sorry, my lady. I beg your forgiveness. My mind was elsewhere for a moment.”

  Katrina smiled. “I know,” she said. “I asked you if there was anything else I could get for you, to make you more comfortable. You seem a little troubled.”

  “No, thank you, my lady,” Kyle said, regaining his composure. “I should go. It has been a pleasant evening, and I thank you for your company and hospitality.”

  “Please, stay until Nikolai returns,” she asked, putting her hand on his arm again. “He shouldn’t be much longer. Keep me company.”

  Kyle looked uncomfortable, but nodded. He was losing himself in thoughts of her again. Why? Was it because no one had touched him as familiarly as Katrina had tonight since—? And Katrina had asked who “she” was. It was rude to ignore a question, though it was also rude to ask inappropriate ones. Katrina’s question hadn’t been entirely improper, just . . . one he’d never thought anyone would ask.

  Four hundred years in the mortal plane and he still hadn’t managed to rid himself of the compulsion to answer direct questions asked of him. He tried to reason with himself, telling himself he didn’t have to reply to her, that curiosity was natural to humans. She was only being polite. He rationalized for a long moment, but he knew if he didn’t answer her, the question would weigh on him until he did.

  “Do you know what today is?” he asked softly.

  “It’s Thursday, the nineteenth,” Katrina replied, confused. “Why?”

  The nineteenth of March. Kyle’s heart lurched in his chest as he remembered carefully choosing the rose he’d delivered that evening. It had to be perfect. Nothing less would do. When he’d found the perfect one, he’d used his power to make it as flawless as she had been. He could have used his power to manifest one in its entirety, but then it wouldn’t be of this realm and would fade with the morning light. She deserved more.

  “La festa di San Giuseppe,” Kyle murmured. “The feast of Saint Joseph.”

  Katrina only looked more confused at his reply. He went on, clarifying.

  “The Feast of Saint Joseph is a holy day in the Church, held every year on the nineteenth of March. Many years ago, on this day, I met her. Catrine.”

  The way he said the name sent an uncomfortable shiver down Katrina’s spine, and she drew her wrap tighter around her shoulders to hide it.

  “Yes,” Kyle said, looking at her. “A name very similar -unnervingly similar - to your own.”

  Kyle reached for his glass and sat back, staring into the liquid as he gathered his thoughts. He contemplated where to begin, now that he’d decided to answer her.

  “I am not Catholic, but tonight I will use you as my confessor, if the queen of the Destrati will consent to hear my confession, that is,” he said. “They say confession lightens the soul, but as I no longer have one, I can only believe that it is so. Will you, Katrina, hear my confession?”

  Katrina consented with a slow nod, wide-eyed, thinking it strange that he would ask her such a thing. Many vampires held to strange traditions, and permission was a big deal to ethereals. Nikolai had gone over and over that with her, teaching her how to construct her phrases, and the power of different word combinations that, if changed slightly, lost their magic completely. The fact that Kyle asked her for anything was enough to earn her consent, especially if all he wanted from her was a good listener.

  Kyle smiled a little and continued, though he lowered his eyes again to study the liquid in his glass.

  “She was beautiful. Not so tall, dark-haired, with deep brown eyes. Not attractive by modern standards, but beautiful nonetheless. Pure. Pure in all ways, down to her immortal soul. It radiated from her: an innocence so gentle it was almost brutal in its kindness. And strength. Not physical strength, though as far as that went in those days, she had that, too, but strength of spirit. Even mortals could almost feel it as they walked by her, not knowing what it was but yearning to be touched by it.”

  It was painful to hear Kyle talk this way. Katrina could hear the emptiness, the loneliness, the longing. The memory. But something told her he was far from finished, and she sat in rapt attention, listening to his melodic, hypnotic voice as he spoke. Truly, it was confessional.

  “I had been sent to murder her.”

  Katrina gasped. Kyle could hear her thoughts. She was screaming with denial inside. Though she had been exposed to this new and violent world for nearly a year now, where such brutality was trivial and commonplace, it still shocked her to hear Kyle speak of taking a life so casually.

  He continued, “But when I saw her, I could not fulfil my mission. I was struck by everything about her, and instead, I offered to walk her home, as her arms were laden with her morning shopping.”

  “Who s
ent you to kill her?” Katrina was pale.

  “My father.”

  “Who is your father?”

  “You need only repeat my true name and hear it for what it is to answer that, my lady,” Kyle said quietly, meeting her eyes. “Speak it, and hear.”

  “Kailkiril’ron,” Katrina obeyed, speaking the difficult Ancient name.

  Ancient. But it was unlike any name of any Ancient she’d come across, and she’d been studying in earnest, trying to learn as much as she could about the new world she had become a part of when she took Nikolai as her husband.

  “No, it’s not the name of an Ancient,” Kyle confirmed her thoughts. His pale eyes challenged hers. “Now, what am I called? Speak the whole of it.”

  “Kailkiril’ron the Be—,” Katrina began. The word caught in her throat, but she swallowed and forced it out. “Betrayer.”

  Kyle nodded. He held Katrina’s eyes and waited for the meaning to clarify itself to her.

  It didn’t take long. Kyle watched the realization cross her face and forced himself to endure it. He’d asked her to hear his confession, and he would endure the penance. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been exiled before.

  Katrina rose from her chair and backed away instinctively. “You’re a demon!”

  “Former, please,” Kyle said calmly, gesturing for her to sit down again in the chair she’d left. “Neither, thankfully, am I a true ‘vampire’. I’m not like your Nikolai or any other Destrati, or any other in any clan. I did not choose this existence. I am a true lost soul. A consciousness in mortal form that must live off the blood of those I betrayed my father - my Master - for. And just to additionally clarify, as I don’t wish to surprise you further, I am a former demon lord, not some common imp. There’s a significant difference. Please.”

  Kyle gestured to the chair again.

  Katrina slowly returned to it, looking at Kyle with new eyes. “I knew you were powerful,” she said quietly, glancing around nervously though no one could have been watching. “They all say so, and those who don’t speak of you with awe speak of you with contempt. I never understood why. But I didn’t realize. I don’t think any of them truly realize what you really are. You just toy with us, don’t you?”

  “Hardly,” Kyle said dryly. “I spend most of my time avoiding you, or have you forgotten that? Wasn’t it you that invited me here? Do you regret it now? Shall I go, now that you know the truth of what I am?”

  “No.” Katrina reached for his hand and covered it with her own, squeezing his gently. “And I’m sorry for my reaction. Demons . . . are frightening things, especially when the man you married has sworn himself to fight against them. I’m afraid I still think of myself as human, even though I’m not really. I saw The Exorcist when I was a kid and I haven’t ever forgotten it.”

  Kyle smiled and brought her fingers to his lips to brush a reassuring kiss across them. She was at least trying to understand, and that hadn’t happened in so very, very long.

  “May you forget that vile film. It isn’t remotely accurate where possession is concerned anyway. But always remember that you were once human,” he said, lowering their hands. He released hers gently. “It is important to remember what you were, even if you might wish to forget at times. Now, I believe you asked a question, and though you may have already answered it for yourself, I shall continue, as there is more.”

  He took a sip from his glass and chose his words carefully.

  “My father is, as you’ve no doubt surmised, the Fallen one named Lucifer.”

  “As in the Lucifer?” Katrina whispered. “As in, War Between The Sides, ‘I will not serve’, losing side, cast-down-into-Hell Lucifer?”

  “The same,” Kyle affirmed with a nod. “You know the tale. After angels, the Creator made humans, and a realm for them to live in. Man quickly became loved best above all things. One angel, the one who felt the most deposed, thought this unjust -this replacement - and formed a rebellion. He was met in battle by those loyal to their Father and lost. The rest you know. What you do not likely know, however, is that once cast down with those who had rebelled with him, Lucifer made new creations in his own image. Just as his Father had before him, he created beings to serve and worship him. I was one of the first among those creations. The only children Lucifer has are, as he so named us, demons, and we are all male, as he is. They do his bidding without question, out of blind loyalty, as I once did. Lucifer himself cannot leave the realm to which he is banished. He cannot leave Hell. However, he can send his children out for short periods for various purposes. There is far more to it than I’ve told you but, suffice to say, I was once first among Lucifer’s children and in command of his legions of demons. But then one day he issued an order I could not obey, which brings us back to my ‘betrayal’. My Catrine.”

  Katrina tried hard to grasp everything Kyle had said, but it didn’t quite make sense. She had a lot of questions, but decided to wait and see if things would become clearer as he went on. She nodded for him to continue.

  Kyle took a sip from his glass and spoke again.

  “As I’ve said, I could not obey and take the life of this beautiful creature. I could not deprive the world of so wondrous a thing as she. I didn’t even know at the time what ‘beauty’ was or even that I found her beautiful. All I knew was that I could not harm her. I didn’t speak a word to her on the way to her home; I merely walked by her side.”

  Kyle laughed softly.

  “I must have made quite the picture,” he said, smiling at Katrina. “I was in this form, you see. It was slightly younger, but only slightly so, and easily inhabited. Demons, in case you don’t know this already, have a form of their own within their own realm (or if they have been summoned into another), but in this case I was in possession of this mortal. He was the most despicable of mortals, truly wicked and corrupt, which is exactly the conduit needed for possession. When I think back on it now, I marvel at her grace. His name ... I don’t even remember what it was, for I gave my true name to her; an unthinkable thing for a demon to do, let alone the lord of demons. She made a wonderful effort to pronounce it, and asked if she could shorten it to simply ‘Kail’. Of course I agreed. Words from her lips were unlike any I’d ever heard before. I have met many of the Host, and I can tell you now, no angel speaks as beautifully as she did.”

  Katrina smiled. “Love does things like that,” she said. “She probably didn’t sound angelic to anyone but you.”

  “Perhaps not,” Kyle agreed, still lost in his memories. “Again, I didn’t know anything about love, or beauty, or grace, but when I look back on it now, she was so gracious and polite that day. As I said, I was in possession of this form, inhabiting this body and sharing the corrupt soul within. It shames me now, knowing what she saw then, for this form was very dirty, with unwashed greasy hair infected with lice.”

  Kyle shuddered visibly.

  “Despite all that, she allowed me to carry her burdens and walk by her side until she reached her home. When she tried to offer me recompense for my aid, I shook my head and bid her farewell. I ran as far and as fast as this mortal form would carry me, and then left it as immediately as I could. But even in my own realm, returned to Hell, I could not forget her. She had robbed me of every desire except the one to be at her side.”

  “I can’t see you running from anything or anyone,” Katrina said, reaching for the bottle of diluted goat’s blood. She offered to refill Kyle’s drink, and he set his glass on the table for her to do so. “Especially a mortal. A mortal woman.”

  Kyle laughed a little before taking another sip from the freshened glass.

  “Oh, believe me, nor could I. I had never returned from a mission unsuccessful, and that was the only fact that saved me further inquiry as to why I hadn’t done my duty. After all, if Kailkiril’ron, Lord General could not fulfil the task, something must have gone terribly awry. Or so I let everyone believe. In truth, for days (and I mean ‘days in Hell’: time passes more quickly here compared to there) I wa
s in agony. I paced and wondered and was generally more unpleasant than usual, even for those accustomed to my nature. My stoic composure would give way without reason to anger and annoyance, going instantly from one extreme to the other without provocation. I was truly more than a nightmare. I was dangerous and reckless, and it was noticed by others, but unquestioned, as one does not question the Lord General. Finally I realized I had no choice. I had to see her again. By the time I decided to return, nearly a year had passed in the mortal realm.”

  Katrina nodded. She sensed this wasn’t a good time to interrupt.

  “I knew what I was doing was strictly forbidden. I hadn’t been given orders to inhabit anyone, nor had I been told to attempt to fulfil my mission again. I was rebelling against everything and I knew it. What’s more, I didn’t care. I had to see her. So I made my excuses and left, seeking out the form I had used previously. I found it, but it was in dismal shape, worse than before, and a great distance away from where I had first taken possession of it. Well, that wouldn’t do.”

  “Why didn’t you simply choose another form, closer to where she was?” Katrina asked, taking a sip from her own glass. Though Nikolai had made her immortal and she didn’t need to eat or drink, she liked to keep up the semblance of normalcy. She couldn’t taste the metallic oiliness of the goat’s blood, but she drank it out of courtesy to their guest. She was proud of herself. A year ago she would have been utterly repulsed, but her husband drank blood to live. It was a lot like eating sushi, she supposed. Once you got over the realization of what you were putting in your mouth, it was easy to swallow.

  “I blame my failure to do just that on being a complete, unthinking idiot. And on being slightly selfish,” Kyle replied.

  “You wanted her to remember you,” Katrina accused, teasing him.