by Dawn Gray
“You said you did it twice?” I questioned and watched him nod. “Who was the other one?”
“Jessa's husband.” He whispered.
“The queen's father?” I questioned and watched him nod. That seemed to explain why I had thought Julian was her father, because Jessa's husband was Julian's fledgling.
“That was it, though; I had heard that people woke up differently each time you make a vampire.” Julian looked at his fingers. “The next one might not be the same after being reborn. Right now, if I were to even attempt a transformation the person wouldn't live through it.”
“Why?”
“Our blood is like lighter fluid, if I were to give a person my blood at the time right before death when the transformation should take place, his or her body would ignite and burst into flames. It's too potent.” He answered.
“How did you find this out?” I whispered and watched his eyes grow cold.
“Last century, I became angry, as if the darkness in me finally decided to take over and this was how I destroyed anything in my path. I would drain them, then force my blood into them, sit back and watch them burn.” He answered. “Nothing started it. I just woke up in a bad mod one day and this is what happened. It went away the same way it started, suddenly.”
“Okay, so I've taken care of my questions to you.” I sighed then turned to Nick. “Now, I have a question for you.”
Nick looked at me, gave me a questioning smile, then looked at Julian, and sat up, composing himself, then he turned to me.
“Ask away.”
“Why would you believe that if you can't protect yourself, you deserve to die?” Nick closed his eyes, and then slowly opened then again to look at me.
“When I was a boy, my father used to beat me, he distilled in me an anger that I can't get rid of. When I see someone weak, it makes me angry because I was once that way and for it, I was beaten, sometimes so badly that I thought I was going to die.
“He would tell me that I was weak, feeble, that I should just die if I couldn't defend myself, so, I learned to fight, to hold in any emotions except for the anger that fueled my fire that made my strength just that much worse.” Nick looked at me. “It came down one day to a decision, one that I haven't been able to forget, which makes me angry.
“Creolas had always been stronger than me, but he was still weaker than my father. The two of them had been verbally fighting all morning because Creolas, having always been more intelligent than he should have been at his age, wanted to leave our home and study at the university, which would put him over two weeks journey away.
“My father wouldn't have it. There was no way that Creolas was leaving, not alive anyhow, and the verbal fight became physical when my father decided that his son needed to be put into his place.” Nick looked off into the fire and his face grew completely solemn. “Creolas almost didn't survive. He was beaten so badly that you couldn't see his eyes, and his mouth was so swollen that he couldn't speak.”
“So, what did you do?” I whispered softly, almost as if I felt being louder would break his mood.
“I confronted him, asked him what would possess him to do that to his own son. He said that if he couldn't protect himself, he deserved whatever he got.” Nick sighed and focused on the rug in front of him. “Needless to say, my father didn't wake up for breakfast the next morning.”
“What did you do?” A voice asked, making the four of us turn to look at Creolas as he stepped in between the chairs. He looked at his brother in shock, as if he had never heard this story before. Nick sighed, a look of self-hatred crossed his face and he turned to look away from the red glowing eyes of his brother. “Nicholas, tell me, what did you do to our father?”
“What I had to do to live.” Nick replied and stood up. I shrank back in the chair, caught between the two of them, and I watched as their eyes locked. “He would have killed you when you were strong enough. He was waiting, just sitting there waiting for you to get up and try to walk out that door. He wanted an excuse to kill you.”
“Nicholas.” Creolas whispered, calmly. “What did you do to him?”
Nick was about to speak, as he stared at his younger brother, but he closed his mouth, shut his eyes then made his way over to the fire place where he put one hand one the hearth, opened his eyes and stared into the fire.
“That night, after the rest of them went to bed; I came in to your room, and sat near your bed. I watched you sleep; the slow rise and fall of your chest and I vowed, right then, that he would never hurt you again.” Nick looked over at Creolas, suddenly, which made me look at him also, at the expression of shock on the red haired man's face. “He came back and I hid in the closet and watched him stand over you, with a knife in his hand. He raised it above his head, aiming for your heart. He never met his mark.”
“Stop dodging the question, Nick.” Creolas said, softly, but Nick continued as if he had never heard his brother speak.
“I hit him, hard, with my fist, but it didn't seem to faze him, as he turned and made his way towards me. I had a feeling in my heart that I was going to die that night, but not before I killed him, not until I knew that you wouldn't be hurt again.
“We moved out into the barn, and began to fight, things began to turn very violent and I knew that I wasn't going to make it, so I grabbed the nearest thing to me, a pitch fork.” I watched him step closer to Creolas, who stood unmoving, next to me. “I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner.”
“You killed him with a pitch fork?” Creolas questioned, his voice had a slight monotone to it, as if he still didn't believe. “How did you get him passed Mother?”
“After he died, I wrapped him with cloth around the wound and I dragged him upstairs and put him in bed. Mama didn't even wake up, like she was used to him not being there.” Nick took one step closer and folded his hands in front of him.
“Why did you do that, Nick?” Creolas asked and the hurt could be heard in his voice.
“Have you ever seen a 16 year old beaten so badly that you couldn't make out facial features?” Nick questioned, Creolas closed his eyes. “Everything I ever did at home, when he was alive, learning to defend myself, learning to fight, keeping the anger, the hatred, I did to protect you and to protect our mother.”
Am I supposed to thank you for that?” He stepped up, closing the gap between him, and his brother to little less than two feet.
Nick shook his head and stared into his brother's eyes.
“What do you want from me?” Creolas spoke, slowly, and I watched Nick sigh and turn back to the fire. Creolas shook his head, turned, and left the room. I looked back and forth between Julian, who was staring at Nick, and Quinn, who was staring at the floor, then I stopped at Nick, who glanced at me, quickly, then went back to the fire.
18
I stood up, quickly and left the room, following the sounds of the footsteps that lead off down the hall and up the stairs. I found Creolas in his room, standing there, facing the window, with one hand on either side of the sill, staring out at the yard. I stepped towards him, knowing that he knew I was there, but he didn't acknowledge me until I placed a hand flat on his back.
“You shouldn't be here.” He whispered, softly, caringly. “I don't want you to get in trouble with Julian.”
“I wanted to make sure you were all right.” I replied and moved to his side to look at his face, the only emotion on his face was confusion. “Are you?”
“No.” He replied with a sigh. “I'm not.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“Please, leave.” He asked and glanced down at me. “I'd like to be alone.”
“Are you sure?” I questioned then watched him nod, but as I turned to leave the room, I heard the shifting of his coat and looked back at him to see him facing me, with his hands crossed over his chest. “If you need anything, just call.”
“Why are you doing this?” Creolas asked. I smiled and shrugged. “Oh come now, you must know if I was you and you had
done to me the things I have done, I would be hoping you would rot in Hell.”
“See, that's how we're different, you and I.” I replied, stepping further into the room. “I think of myself as a very observant person.”
“And, what have you observed about me?” He asked and I watched as smile cross his face, reaching those red eyes. It was different then the smile I was used to from him.
“Answer one question for me first.” I said and slowly closed the door. Creolas looked at me as if to ask if I were nuts, then he stepped closer, his eyebrows coming together over his nose. I sat down in the chair, by the desk and watched Creolas sit down on the bed. He nodded telling me to go on and ask. “How do you feel about me?”
This question seemed to stun him, and he got up, walking back to the window.
“Why did you ask me that?” He questioned, softly.
“I don't know.” I looked down at my nervously twitching fingers, the back up at him. “It's just that I've been thinking about everything that's happened between us.”
“Cait, nothing's happened.” Creolas sighed, and looked out.
“I know that you did things to get them to take me away when Klamara came last time, and I heard what you said to Julian in his study, that if he didn't take me away than you would. I also heard what you said to all of them the night you arrived, that you wanted me just like they did.” I stopped and watched him slowly turn back to me. “So, it makes me wonder, how exactly do you feel about me?”
“What does it matter? You have your son and your husband, and you also have Julian. How many men do you think you can handle?” He moved closer to me as I stood up, feeling the sudden urge to leave the room, but it was too late. Creolas was holding me within a split second. It wasn't a threatening posture, not like he was going to attack, but a gentle hold. He had one hand on my cheek and the other around my waist. “It doesn't matter how I feel, Caitlyn, because it can't happen.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Are you looking to dominate every one of us?” He asked and smiled softly.
“Only those who wish to be dominated.” I laughed nervously. “So, what are you planning on doing now?”
“Don't worry.” He smiled, sweetly. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
He whispered as he leaned down and kissed me softly on the lips. It was such a gentle kiss; one that was full of tenderness, something you wouldn't expect from a man like him. When he broke away, I shocked myself by thinking how much I'd like for him to do it again.
“I think it would be best if you left, Cait.”
“I know.” I whispered, opening my eyes. I looked into those red eyes and watched for just a moment as they faded to a dark midnight blue, then back just as fast. He stepped back, letting me go, and I glanced at him before I left the room, closing the door behind me.
What had just gone on in there? I asked myself, as I moved down the drafty hallway, holding one arm across the other. Did I just start something I shouldn't have with Creolas?
I watched the sun setting in the sky. My stomach turned in circles, and the feelings of butterflies fluttering around in there made it hard to concentrate on much else.
I watched as a figure stepped up beside me, then I saw Julian's reflection in the window.
“Before this happens, we need to talk.” He said, softly, which made me look back at him. He stood there watching the ice twirl in the glass that he held in his right hand, then he looked up at me and sighed. “It's about that other time.”
“The last time Klamara came?” I asked and watched him nod.
“I can't tell you who stopped him; I didn't see who it was. I was too concerned with the fact that he was going to harm you, and how I was supposed to protect you to really pay attention to someone sneaking around.” Julian sighed, and walked over to sit on the wide window sill in front of me, and then he put his drink down and looked up at my face. “After you were hit, I remember coming over to you and holding you in my arms. I had failed to protect you and I thought that you were dead because I couldn't hear your heart over the sound of mine.
“Nick came down to the rings after the clouds had cleared and he knelt by me. He was the one that told me you were still alive, but barely. Neither of us could give you blood because of what I told you earlier, about the igniting thing, so, Michael gave you some of his, and you healed but Nick and I knew that if you had knowledge of who and what you were, that Klamara would come back for you, so, we decided that it would be in your best interest to make you forget.”
“You did this to me?” I asked feeling oddly detached at that moment. Julian nodded and continued.
“Nick and I, together, made you forget the three years you had known us; right down to the very thing we resented the most.”
“And, that was?” I stepped back, fearing the worst.
“Your connection to Creolas.” He replied. I looked at him; confused and angered that he was even saying that.
“I don't have a connection to Creolas, Julian, I have one with you.” I shook my head as he looked down at his hands, but even as I said it aloud, I knew in my heart that he was telling the truth. “What sort of “connection” are you referring too?”
“He loved you, probably still does, which is why he is so determined about taking you away from here. The last time you were here the two of you created a bond that I couldn't deal with, by that third summer, I couldn't stand to look at him. He had locked you into him; the two of you were connected. I had lost you.” Julian sighed then rubbed his forehead.
“Why can't I remember?” I whispered. “If everything else has come back, why can't I remember any of it?”
“Because, Nick and I destroyed it.” He looked straight ahead, avoiding my angry stare. “We thought that if you forgot us, Klamara would leave you be, but if you still felt for Creolas, then that would bring back the memories, so, we found that part of your mind, and linked with it, pretty much destroying any memories of what happened that last year and any good memories of Creolas.”
“Is that why you were so upset to see us together?” I asked and watched him nod. “I don't believe this! Does Connie know?”
“She knows a little bit about it, but not enough to figure it out the depths of your feelings for him. As far as she knew, you were with me, and only me, the entire time.” Julian stood up and stepped away from me, but I grabbed his arm.
“You took my memories, you destroyed feelings that I held for another person, and when I returned, you told me he was evil and I believed you.” I let my grip go and stepped back away from him. “I don't know what's worse, now or then. And the fact that I still love you enough to be with you, to forgive you; just pisses me off.” I sighed, catching my breath, composing myself. “One last thing,” he looked back at me as I looked down at the floor, “how did we, Creolas and I, suddenly get together if I was supposed to be so in love with you?”
“You and I had a fight, one night that second summer; actually, it was late September. You ran and he followed, without any of us knowing. His intentions were to harm you again, to make us take you away, but instead he protected you, kept you safe, even when you were hurt.” I walked by him quickly, and then stopped when I heard his voice. “Wait, where are you going?”
“I need to hear this from him.” I replied and stepped out of the room, making my way back up to the bedroom I had left earlier that day. I didn't bother to knock; instead I just barged in and closed the door behind me. Creolas looked up from the book he was holding, as he sat, stripped down to his boxers, in the middle of the bed. He looked over my face as I looked over his body.
“What is it?” He asked, concerned, then I watched his facial features change into that hard look once again. “What do you want?”
Without a word, I walked over to the bed, climbed up and sat in his lap, facing him. The shock on his face matched the fact that his body had stiffened. He had reached his hands up to stop me, but froze when I leaned down and kissed him, hard, on the lips.
As if the shock had worn off, his hands suddenly grasped my upper arms and he pulled me away, sitting up straight as he did.
“What are you doing?” He whispered.
“You never told me how you felt about me.” I replied, quietly as the tears that I had been holding in, ones of anger and disappointment, began to flow. I watched the look in his eyes change to one of pain. “Julian and Nick, they made me forget you.”
“And, you think throwing yourself at me like this is going to bring it back?” He asked, softly. I shook my head, not sure of what to think at that moment. “What did he tell you?”
“That you and I were together that last year, and that he couldn't take it, so, he made me forget how I felt.” I replied, quietly. Creolas closed his eyes and shook his head.
“I knew that son of a bitch did something to you. I could see it in your eyes when I arrived that you didn't have a clue as to who I was.” He leaned his head back on the pillow and relaxed. “How can I describe it to you when you don't remember any of it?”
“Tell me one thing, please.” I asked, and watched him open his eyes. “Did you interfere with Klamara?”
“I had to.” He whispered then looked up at me. “You were the only good thing that had happened to me since I became this thing.”
“So, you were the figure I saw in my memory, the one coming up from behind him?' He nodded and sat up again, with me still straddling him. “Tell me how we got so close.”
“He didn't tell you?”
“No, he said something about a fight and how you had followed me with the intentions of hurting me, so they would take me away.” I slipped off his lap and sat on the bed, facing him, but Creolas got up and made his way to the dresser.
“That was my plan, but other things happened.” He replied, pulling a pair of jeans from the drawer and slipping them on. He turned to look at me, to see if it had shocked me at all, but it didn't. “You left, drove off into the city and went to a club, one with loud music and dark corners, a vampire club. I watched you drink, probably more than you had ever had before, and then you left with some young vampire. He brought you out to the alley and attacked you.