Jack comes in and stands in the doorway. The look on his face intensifies my panic.
“Who are you?” I can't get anything else out. His expression is dark and almost preoccupied. Is that guilt I see in his eyes? What does this look mean? What?
But whatever I read into it is irrelevant, because what I definitely see in his eyes now is me.
“Aven?” I whisper. My voice sounds disbelieving, and the word seems to me like a step into a minefield. I'm afraid of the detonation which a single word from him could set off at any moment. But I need certainty. What my feelings are telling me now is so unbelievable, I can't brush it off or suppress it.
Instead of answering, he looks down at the floor. I rush to the toilet and throw up. This must all be a nightmare. It's not real. It can't be real.
He approaches me hesitantly, but with a wave of my hand I gesture to him to keep back and wait until my stomach has calmed down a bit.
“Don't touch me,” I hiss, before starting to retch once more and vomiting again.
“Kaya. . .” he says now and then falls silent, because I'm flushing the toilet. I straighten up and look at him. I grimace in disgust, but it isn't only because of the bitter taste in my mouth.
“I don't understand. You're dead. We all thought you were dead. Tell me it isn't true. Tell me you're not my brother Aven.”
“So you know about me? Ramon told you about me? I wasn't sure he would, but why did you think I was dead?”
“How could I not know about you? You're my brother! You knew it and yet you—“ The nausea surges up within me again, but my stomach has nothing left to give. I lean against the counter of the vanity and rinse my mouth out, to at least get rid of some of the bitterness there.
“Your half-brother.”
“Half-brother? Why half-brother?”
“After all, we only have the same father.”
“And who do you think your mother is?” I scream it more than I say it. It's all insane.
“My mother is Violette Dumas. That's also my real name. Aven Dumas.”
“Violette, your mother?” I repeat and start laughing hysterically. But as abruptly as it began, my fit of laughter stops again.
“Who told you that? Her? Violette Dumas?”
His expression is unsure now, his eyebrows knitted and his forehead furrowed.
“Violette killed you! At least we thought she had killed you, because shortly after our birth there was only me left in the cradle. All that remained of you were blood stains leading out the window. Our mother told me a lot about that time in her last weeks of life. It must have been a heap of blood for a baby. You were gone, as if a wild animal had snatched you from our crib. Gone without a trace. And only when Violette turned up nine years later and threatened to kill us like she had killed you if our father didn't go back to her did we finally know for sure. At least that's what we thought. Father sent us away, only because he wanted to protect us, and he stayed with her and never came back. She tore us apart. She tore our whole family apart and killed our mother. And maybe our father too, if you don't know where he is.”
“You're lying!” He leaps at me and grabs me violently by the arms. His face is a little disfigured and I stare almost in awe at the fangs which he flashes at me once more.
“Why are you telling me these lies?” His eyes beg for an alternative reality, but if I have to handle the truth then he should too, thank you very much.
“Tell me!” Now he is shaking me, but I still don't defend myself and simply stare at him. His eyes are filled with horror and tears which he is fighting back. So the dried up tear ducts problem really doesn't seem to be a genetic thing.
“You thought I was dead?” He loosens his grip and I nod in silence.
“But why would my mother kill me?” Now he seems confused, because his eyes are glazed over and seem to be searching for help. His mind is probably refusing to accept the truth too. If only I could erase it from my mind as well.
Now I grab him roughly by the shoulders and scream at him. “Because she's not your mother! Our mother died many years ago. From Violette's curse. You're not my half-brother. We were born on the same day.”
He pales, extracts himself from my grip and takes a step back.
“We're. . .”
“Twins! Yes. Fraternal twins, which isn't hard to tell.”
He beats a fist against the marble tiles of the wall and screams, “No!” But his expression tells me he too has now realized what I felt and realized from one second to the next.
He stumbles out of the bathroom and I follow him. He rushes back and forth across the room like a headless chicken and then sinks onto the couch as if his energy has suddenly left him. He buries his face in his hands.
“I was going to kill you,” he murmurs and I'm not sure whether he's talking to me or to himself. He shakes his head, as if he doesn't want to believe it himself.
“It was my plan to kill you if I found you. You and the others. But the hate I carried within me for so long disintegrated the second I first saw you.”
“When? When and where did you see me?”
“It was in April. I saw you coming out of the little shop your paintings are on display in, and something happened to me.
You looked like the girl I sometimes dreamed about. From the very first second I was under your spell, and I tried to find out more about you. So I watched you for quite a while, which wasn't easy because you hardly left the house. The fact that I really do deal in paintings and antiques and don't only steal them gave me the idea of taking on the identity of Jack Daniels, to get closer to you. You felt it too, this attraction between us. I've known hundreds of women, but not a single one of them did to me what you do.”
His words make my blood positively freeze in my veins, and I tremble with the inner cold. That dream before. There were similar words in my dream before, and suddenly I realize my strange dreams are his thoughts, feelings or dreams that somehow find their way to me when I sleep. My whole life long now. Sometimes more and sometimes less.
“You really wanted to kill me?” I stare at him incredulously, while his brown eyes can't seem to find anything to focus on and won't look at me.
“Why did you want to kill me?”
He stands, walks to the window and looks out it.
“I searched for you all for decades. I thought Ramon Álvarez had left my mother and me for you. I promised her Ramon would pay for it, and I would kill him and the children of this other woman. I never guessed what I would feel for you. You were the first one I found and because I had these feelings for you, I never told her about you and Airas. But yesterday I found out that she knows, and that's also why I absolutely had to speak to you and tell you the truth.”
“Mother.” I repeat the word with contempt, but he doesn't seem to even hear me and is still trying to put the puzzle pieces together. What kind of sick game was he playing with me? And Violette with him? Even I still can't understand it all.
“And your 'speaking to me' was also supposed to involve you getting me into bed? Your sister?”
“I only wanted a kiss. Just one, little kiss.”
“Are you trying to say what happened between us before was my fault?”
“No! I just want you to believe that I didn't plan it.”
“You mean a tiny truth amongst endless lies?” I laugh scornfully. “Good to know the idea of killing me lay within the realms of possibility.” I can't get over the thought that he was going to kill me and wonder how he was planning to do it. After all, it wouldn't have been easy. Was he going to chop my head off or rip my heart out? There aren't all that many options for destroying us immortals, as Noah revealed to me on our road trip.
And then there's this latent feeling of disappointment within me, that he didn't simply do it. Then I wouldn't have to feel what I'm feeling now.
I'm dizzy and struggle to keep my balance. It seems like the world has spun off its axis for good and left me here all disoriented.
&nb
sp; “Try to calm down, please. You shouldn't get all worked up, not in your condition.”
“How am I supposed to calm down when I've just found out my twin brother is alive and we almost had. . .” I don't even want to say the words. “And what do you mean, in my condition?”
“You really don't know?”
“Know what?” I ask irritably.
“You're pregnant.
“What?”
“Strange, I couldn't smell it, but when I tasted your blood it was unmistakable. Also that you have angel blood in you.”
Pregnant? I stare at him in disbelief. The bitterness in his eyes seems to indicate that he's telling the truth, but I still can't believe it. He must be wrong. Maybe it's just another lie I don't understand the purpose of yet.
He looks past me and his gaze falls on the photo frames lined up along the sideboard, catching on the two photos of Cassie. One photo showing her as a young woman, and one in which she was already much older.
“Who is that?” he asks, without taking his eyes off the picture.
“Cassandra – our sister.”
“But that can't be. . . why was she old?” he blurts out angrily, and I suddenly feel like someone has pulled the rug out from under me again.
I stare at him, eyes wide with horror.
“You were at Cassie's place!” All of a sudden, I remember the dream where I pushed her down the stairs – no – where he pushed her down.
“You killed her,” I mouth, but no sound comes out. All at once, I feel nothing anymore, only a vacuum which nothing from the outside world can penetrate. My own movements and everything around me suddenly appear to be in slow motion and lose all reality. Eyes half-open, I suddenly see Cassie before me, laughing and dancing carefree over a summer meadow, flowers in her long, loose hair. She waves at me happily, until I blink. The next moment I see her fall down the stairs and notice that I too am falling, slowly and inexorably.
38
Amkaya
“Don't touch me,” I hiss at Aven, who is trying to help me up. My legs tremble, and I sit down on the edge of the bed.
“It was before I met you, Kaya. I didn't mean to. I was looking for you, and I didn't know who she was. She was old and weak, and I thought she was just some random person. A tenant living in one of your properties, or a caretaker. She wouldn't give me any information and I got angry. In actual fact, it was an accident.”
Wild hatred flares up within me, and my hands clench into tight fists. I want to wrap them around his neck and squeeze.
“Don't lie. You said you wanted to kill me. Then you must have been planning the same for her.”
“Yes, but I don't know if I really would have done it if I had known it was her. She was an old woman.”
“She was your little sister,” I say through gritted teeth, and now I watch as he squeezes his hands into fists and tries to control his emotions.
“Jack Daniels,” I repeat the name he introduced himself to me under darkly, and remember our first meeting at Farallon and the encounters that followed.
“You just made it all up. Everything you told me, from start to finish, was a lie. My paintings – the thing with the exhibition was just a lie too. You even managed to trick Wilson, and he always researches everything damn well.”
“But what was I supposed to say? Hello, I'm your half-brother. I was meant to kill you, but I've fallen hopelessly in love with you? I knew there was no way for us, even if only because of my. . . Violette. I only wanted to be close to you. . . to get to know you better. . . and I could only do that with another identity. And I'm not even who I thought I was myself.”
I stare at him and can't understand why I didn't see it. His eyes have such a strong resemblance to my father's, and the nose too. The delicate features take after our mother and his smile. . . his smile is like mine. Why couldn't I see all that before? My hands rest on the shirt on my belly and I try to internalize what he revealed to me moments ago. If it really is true, if I really am pregnant, why didn't I notice? Why can't I feel it? It's so unreal. Noah, where are you Noah? Why did you give up on us? In spite of my longing for him, which I'm once more feeling in every fiber of my being, fury surges within me at the same time. I'm furious that he simply left me like that. Even if the way I acted hurt him, what we had should have been able to withstand more than that.
Aven holds the picture of Cassie in his hands and stares at it, as if he's searching for something in it. I have trouble even looking at him.
“We have to get out of here. Now.” He places the picture back on the sideboard and gives me a determined look. “Only pack your most important things and then we'll go.”
I shake my head in confusion.
“I'm not going anywhere, and certainly not with you.”
“Don't you understand? She must be on her way here by now. Tyron told me she has known for weeks. She knows I found you and kept it from her. I'm just lucky Tyron can't keep his mouth shut. He warned me to keep away from you now. That means she'll be coming here, and she won't spare you.”
“Do you mean that goddamned witch, who called herself your mother and has our parents on her conscience? If she really has known for weeks, then why would she only be coming to kill me now?”
“Because. . . you don't know her. She loves playing games.”
“What kind of games? What do you mean?”
“Kaya, are you awake?” Airas's voice reaches me from the first floor, and a weight falls from my heart. He's back, and I don't have to cope with this situation alone anymore. I just can't go on. It's all simply too much for me. My head is spinning and I don't know what to do.
But before I can call down to answer him, Aven presses his hand over my mouth and gives me a look of warning.
“Don't answer. She'll be with him.”
Stunned, I stare at him with wide eyes and a terrible suspicion creeps over me.
“Vivien. . .” I mumble into the hand covering my mouth. That goddamned witch is playing with my brother.
“We have to get out of here,” Aven whispers insistently in my ear, and takes his hand off my mouth.
“Not without Airas,” I hiss and run to the door.
“I'll be down in a minute, I just have to put some clothes on,” I call out loudly and cast a glance back at Aven, who is now staring at me in abject horror. His cheek muscles twitch like Airas's do when he's upset. The thought that another brother is standing before me here is still alien to me.
“You can't go down there,” he whispers and comes over to me. “Violette will kill you.”
“Now you listen to me. That guy down there, he's your brother too. He might mean nothing to you, but I won't desert him.” Undeterred, I turn and make to leave, but he holds the sleeve of my shirt and pulls me back. His brown eyes are gleaming and I can hear his heart practically doing somersaults. “I love you, Kaya. Perhaps I love you in a different way than I should, but I want to learn to love you in the right way. I can even live with you not forgiving me, but I don't want you to die.”
“Then let me go and help me.”
“You stay here and let me go down.”
“No,” I shake my head. “Not a chance.” I look him in the eye, with an unmistakable, grim expression on my face, until he finally gives up and releases me.
“Then let's go.”
With Aven by my side, I descend the stairs to the entryway and see Airas taking a dark-haired, attractive woman's coat and hanging it on the coat rack. Suddenly I realize I'm still only wearing the gray nightshirt, but anyway, what does my appearance have to do with this visit? Airas's critical look tells me he finds the way I'm dressed and the presence of the man by my side inappropriate. But he apparently doesn't have any idea who the person by his side is either, nor that it's our brother walking toward him.
The unusually strong presence of the woman forces its way in through my nerve endings, and I can feel it deep within my bones. An almost existential angst comes over me, and I stop where I am on the la
st step. Adrenalin whooshes through my veins and I realize what danger we're in and that I don't even have the beginnings of a plan.
“Look who I've brought, Kaya. We were just talking about it a few hours ago, and here she is. Vivien was dying to meet you too.” Airas wraps his arm cheerfully around the woman's hip. She stands only a few feet away from me in a crimson dress.
Doesn't he sense anything at all? How can she fool him like this? How does she manage to blind him this way? Look at me, Airas! Look at my face. Smell my horror. I want to warn him. To yell out to him, GET AWAY FROM HER, but my words get stuck in my fear.
I breathe deeply to combat the nausea which overcomes me once more. No, no, no! I have to stay strong. I need to breathe. Keep breathing.
“Amkaya, I'm so glad to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you.” She smiles. A cold, fake smile from blue-green eyes which rest on me like a mask.
“What a shame I didn't hear it from you,” she says then with a furious glance at Aven who is standing next to me, and throws her black locks over her shoulder.
“What's going on here?” Airas lets go of Violette and looks confused. His gaze wanders over our faces, bewildered. Finally. Finally he notices something is wrong.
“Violette. . .” I say. I can't get anything else out. But it's enough, because Airas steps away from the witch in shock.
“Can I speak with you in private?” Aven's voice sounds collected and disgustingly neutral.
“Would you look at that? Now my son suddenly wants to speak with me. A bit late, don't you think?” Her voice is loud and dripping with sarcasm.
“Isn't it also a bit late to find out you're not even my mother?” Aven remains surprisingly indifferent. For a split second I think I can see hurt in her eyes.
“If that's the case, then we can speak quite openly. At any rate, it'll all stay in the family.” A cynical smile plays around her full lips as she adds, “You do have very close family relationships, don't you?” Her smile is so malicious I wish I could punch her.
The Night Within Us: Dark Vampire Romance Page 26