The Beacon (The Original's Trilogy Book 1)

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The Beacon (The Original's Trilogy Book 1) Page 27

by Cara Crescent


  “I came upon two men feeding on the injured. When they noticed me . . . it happened so fast. I don't think they intended for me to survive. They almost ripped my throat out.” His hand touched the scar at the base of his neck. “Someone must have found me because later that night, I woke beneath a shroud. If I’d slept much longer, they'd have buried me. When I sat up, the prayers changed from last rights to exorcism.” He scrubbed his hand over his head. “They were my friends, the only family I knew.

  “But I couldn't think past the sound of their hearts. I couldn't control the blood-lust. I couldn't stop. I killed them all.” He met her gaze. “You know, there are times when you shouldn’t fight. When the only way to survive is to lower your gaze, keep your mouth shut, and be still. But they were all fighters. And they all died.” James rested his elbows on his knees, letting his head hang. “Saladin and his army took the blame for what I did.”

  Lilith shivered. She didn't want to hear this, but she knew he needed to tell her. To tell someone who loved him enough not to turn away in revulsion. She braced herself for the reality of his past.

  “From what the history books say, the Saracens captured and killed two hundred-fifty soldiers. I think perhaps the Muslims suspected what had happened.” He stood and paced the length of the room. “Maybe they'd seen similar destruction before, I don't know, but they beheaded the dead I left. Maybe to ensure none rose again. I returned to Pisa, to the seminary and told my mentor what happened. He asked me to come back the next night. To give him time to find a solution.”

  “What happened?”

  He laughed humorlessly. “When I returned, I found proof of my excommunication nailed to the church door. I think he intended to distract me, which he did.” He shook his head. “You see, he'd gathered the men from the village to destroy me. I wanted them to, but as a vampire, my survival instincts are much stronger. I fought, killed, and ran. I couldn't stand myself.”

  She'd never given it much thought, how vampires felt about transformation. Never considered that they might battle with themselves over instinct. She couldn't imagine what he'd been through. How he'd survived it all.

  “Soon after, the Council offered me a position with the Guardians. I decided it sounded like good penance, so I accepted.”

  ***

  “You did what you needed to do to survive.”

  “I did.” His voice toneless, he scrubbed a hand over his head and sat in the armchair. “And now I destroy those daemons who break the laws.” His gaze landed on the full-length mirror across from him. In the reflection, he could only see the chair sitting in the darkened room. When he first went through transformation, his missing reflection gave the impression he no longer existed. Eventually, he admitted he didn't want to have to see into his own eyes anyway. The lack of reflection became a blessing of sorts.

  He stood, needing to pace, to move, but Lilith blocked his path. She pushed him back into the armchair.

  “What are you doing, Lil?”

  “Starting over.”

  He stared, unsure what to say.

  She knelt on the floor in front of him and started unlacing his boots.

  “What does that mean?”

  She tugged off a boot, pulled off a sock and sat back on her heels. “I'm not sure, but I feel like this is a turning point for us, don't you?” She stripped his other foot.

  “I just told you I murdered you in your last life.”

  “Not my last life.” She frowned, her brows drawing together. “Crowley got me that time. You got me in one of my lives before that.”

  “Flippancy doesn't suit you.”

  Finally, she met his gaze. “I don't know how to react. Is that what you want to hear? Because I don't. I feel bad. I wish you had done some things differently. It sounds like I should have done things differently. But it's a past I don't even remember and it bothers me that it's eating you alive. We're different people now and I don't think I particularly give a shit what happened back then except for the fact you're killing yourself over it.”

  He lifted his hips at her urging and she pulled his cargos and boxers off. “You don't care?”

  “I don't know.” She tossed the pants behind her and stood. “I mean, I hate that you kept it from me, since it involved me.” She propped her hand on her hip. “Let me ask you this. If the same thing happened today. If someone told you I'd done something horrible, something that went against your current code of ethics, and wanted you to kill me, would you?”

  “No. Crowley tried to tell me you'd be the end of daemon-kind, or at least that you'd destroy the vampire race. I didn't turn you over to him.”

  She crawled into his lap, tugging his shirt up and pulling it over his head. “So, you aren't the same person you were. Can we agree to that?”

  He nodded.

  “And neither am I.”

  “No. You're a hell of a lot more agreeable nowadays.”

  She laughed, a full-throated, husky sound that had him instantly hard.

  “So can we bury the past and move on?”

  “Yeah.” As if he'd argue. He didn't know how much more time he'd have with her, but he'd be damned if he wanted to spend it fighting. Destiny had done everything in its power to ensure they found each other. The fates conspired to bring them together. “How the hell can you be so accepting?”

  “My mother raised me believing in reincarnation. I believe that we each have a soul and that it's our job, in each life, to learn as much as possible.” She sat back and removed her shoes and socks.

  “Then how do you explain those who seem bent on not learning anything? Those whose sole purpose it is to ruin things for others?” Like Crowley.

  “I think we all play the villain in at least one life.” She shrugged. “Perhaps we make an agreement before we come. Decide what lessons we need to learn and choose someone to help us learn them. Or perhaps, at times, we as spirit become disillusioned with our process and have shitty lives.”

  “And daemons? How do you explain us?”

  Her face lit up in a brilliant smile. “You've never considered the possibility that you chose your lot?”

  “Never.”

  Her grin didn't waver as she stood and shimmied out of her jeans. “When I look at you, I see a very determined male.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting us ready for bed.” She lifted her shirt and pulled it over her head.

  Christ, she was a beautiful woman.

  “I see a male, who takes his job of maintaining the balance, of protecting me, seriously.” She cocked her brow up. “Am I wrong?”

  “You make me sound selfless, which I'm not. I do what I do in the hopes of regaining my humanity. I don't want to be one of the lost when the End Times come.”

  She rolled her eyes and huffed. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. “There is a huge difference between being human with a soul and having humanity.” The bit of lace dropped to the floor with the rest of their clothes.

  “Humanity is having the qualities of humans, which includes having a soul.”

  Her panties joined the rest. “I'm not saying I have all the answers, or even that what my mother taught me is correct.” She sat on his lap, curling into him. “But I'd much rather think that you chose to be here for me and to help others, than to think you're being randomly tossed about without a hope or a prayer.”

  “What if we are? Being tossed about?”

  “Then I guess we need to hold tight to each other.” She pulled his hand to her breast. “Touch me.”

  His hand shook when he cupped her. She couldn't possibly understand how her acceptance affected him. How much she calmed him. Her nipple hardened against his palm. She let her head fall back, her long hair brushing his leg.

  The movement drew his attention to the mirror behind her and reality returned with brutal force. He stood with her, turned her so she faced the darkened mirror and sat back down. She needed to understand. In the reflection, she floated above the empty cha
ir.

  He dragged her back against his chest and drew his hands down her silken thighs, easing them apart until they rested on the outside of his, exposing her to his gaze. His cock throbbed at the visual feast she presented.

  “I've never seen anything so beautiful.”

  “James?”

  She created an erotic vision, so much so he found it difficult to draw in air. Her creamy skin reflected the moonlight, accentuating her dark nipples. And so soft—all satin and starlight to his touch. His hands played across her skin, grasping, kneading, caressing. And in the mirror, her eyes clouded with passion.

  He entered her in one long thrust, clenching his jaw against the feel of her wet heat closing in around him. She arched, impaling herself farther onto his cock, and he shuddered with the excruciating desire she stirred.

  “Look at us.” He turned her face toward the darkened mirror, slowly flexing his hips. She needed to understand. His lot in life was a punishment. He waited for her look into the mirror.

  “Do you see? That's my mark on this world: Nothing.” He kept his hands gentle, skating them over her skin and pressed his lips to her throat. “You. You're beautiful. Look at you.”

  “Because of you.” She wound her fingers with his, placing his hands over her breasts. “Look at my lips.”

  He nuzzled her ear. “Lush. Full.”

  Those lips spread in a sensual smile. “Only after you kiss me.”

  James froze, but her hands undulated over his, she squeezed her breasts with his hands.

  “And see how flushed my skin is?”

  He swallowed hard. “Like you've been kissed by the starlight.”

  “It's because I feel you at my back, I sense your gaze on me and feel your cock, your arousal thick inside me.”

  “Stop it.”

  She rotated her hips. “Watch us.”

  “I'm not there.”

  “I see you.” Her hips rolled in a steady beat. Her gaze met his in the mirror. Not really, he had no reflection, but he felt as if she stared straight into his eyes. She pulled his right hand down her body, over her belly to the apex of her thighs. “I see you in the changes in me.”

  He touched her clit and she gasped, pressing onto his fingers, sinking him deeper into her body.

  “A week ago, I'd have been too ashamed to watch myself being pleasured by you.”

  “Because I'm a vampire.”

  “Because I was ashamed of myself.” Her hips flexed, her slick inner muscles dragging along his length, gripping him tight. “I thought I was too skinny. Too small-breasted. Too clumsy. Too scared.”

  “You're gorgeous. A goddess.”

  “Only to you.” She reached back her arm, palming the back of his head and turned her face to his. “You make me feel beautiful. You make me brave. You might not have a reflection, but don't think you don't leave impressions.”

  His throat tight, he curled his arms around her. He held her tight, needing to be as close as possible, wishing he could climb inside her skin and discover whatever made her so fucking bright. He wanted her light. He wanted her. Needed her.

  Chapter 33

  As soon as the sun went down, James brought Lilith to a small cottage in Fall City. The home of Augustina Saar, the Historian.

  Augustina allowed them entrance before turning to Lilith. “You'll give us a minute, please.” She bowed to Lilith, pulling James away and speaking to him in hushed tones. “You should not have come here.”

  “I need to know what's going on, what's going to happen. The Watchers have given me an impossible task in protecting her. I can't even get a straight answer as to who I'm protecting her from.”

  “Everyone.”

  He snorted. “That's what the Watchers said.”

  “Then you know what you need to know. Go.”

  “No. Tell me what's coming.” Lilith walked farther down the hall, gazing at the pictures lining the paisley walls. “Please. You know what it's like to be in love. I'd give my life to protect her, but I don't even know what I'm fighting. I can't keep her locked in Haven House forever.”

  Augustina shook her head. She threw up her arm. “I cannot see her future, Guardian, but only her here and now.”

  “But you knew she was important. You knew when she was a child.”

  “She bears the mark of the Original. Anyone who knows the early Histories would recognize that mark. The vision I saw showed her in mortal danger. When I saw your struggles, I realized the Great Ones wanted you to help her.”

  “Why?”

  “I am but a daemon. I do not try to understand the minds of angels. Not even fallen ones. Perhaps you should ask them yourselves.”

  Jesus, he hated this. “They're not talking.”

  “Then go to them.”

  He snorted. “Go and visit the most dangerous beings on Machon? Sure, as soon as the portals open to the daemon realm and I get over my uncontrollable preference for existing. You must have some idea why they sent me to her.”

  “No more than you.” She sighed. “What do the Watchers do?”

  “Keep the balance.”

  “Through the Guardians.”

  “Yes.”

  “And . . .?” She motioned for him to keep going with her hands.

  “So you're saying we need Lilith to maintain the balance between humans and daemons.”

  “It does seem so.”

  “They shouldn't have picked me. I don't even have a usable talent should it come down to needing to use it. I'm already on the Council's radar. I feel like I'm putting her in a more vulnerable spot than she'd be in if they picked someone else.”

  “Guardian, this I can tell you. You must do whatever it takes to protect that woman.” She pointed to Lilith. “If that means you level a town because you need to use your talent, then you do so.”

  “I can't. Lilith is sweet. She's a caregiver. She'd never understand that kind of violence. I'd lose her and that would destroy me.”

  “Ah, and now we get to the heart of the matter.”

  He cocked his brow.

  “What was the old woman's curse?”

  “She cursed me to destruction before I got what I truly want.”

  “And what do you truly want.”

  “I want my mate safe.”

  She shook her head. “The old woman was fucking with you. Just so we're clear: If she did curse you to destruction, death curses die with the witch. So you're clear, even if the curse was legit and she wasn’t playing with words, well, then you know that outcome as well, right?”

  So it wasn't a death curse. Lilith might end up hating him, but she'd be safe. He nodded.

  Her lips quirked. “Did you say she wouldn't understand violence? The Original?” Augustina held his gaze, then nodded toward Lilith. “Are you sure we're talking about the same woman?”

  He glanced down the hall. Lilith turned, maybe sensing their stares and started strolling back toward them. “Yeah. That's her, right there. She had her first battle the other night. Shook her to her socks.”

  “Let me tell you a secret about your mate, one she may not yet realize.” Augustina leaned closer. “She is daemon-kind's judge, jury, and executioner. She is our law. And soon, she will be the one all daemon-kind, including the Watchers, look to for guidance. Do not underestimate her. And do not think, because you are her mate, you'll be outside her law.”

  A chill spider walked up his spine.

  “You'll use your talent if needed, because she won't think kindly on you for any show of weakness. They’ll use you against her if they think they can, Guardian, so don't give them a reason.”

  “Who?”

  “Like any monarch, she will have countless enemies over her reign. When you're told to protect her from everyone, you should take that advice to heart.”

  “Do you need more time?” Lilith asked.

  James jumped slightly and pasted on a smile. “No.”

  “Thank you for being so patient.” Again, the Historian gave her slight bow.
/>
  Lilith smiled. “We hoped you could answer some questions for us.”

  The Historian frowned, giving James a sidelong glance.

  “We need help, Augustina.”

  Her gaze narrowed at his use of her name, his reminder that he could hurt her with the knowledge. The Historian's lips twisted in a semblance of a smile. “Of course, Samael.”

  James cursed under his breath.

  “Come.” She led the way down the hall and into a dimly lit room. Once she shut the door behind them, she asked, “What do you wish to know?”

  Lilith opened her mouth to speak, but the Historian held up her hand. “I caution you to not say anything out loud that you would not wish your enemy to know.”

  Lilith snapped her mouth closed and looked at him. “Now I'm not sure what to ask.” Her gaze returned to the Historian. “Are you my enemy?”

  “Never.”

  “Did you send me the notes?”

  Augustina nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Because things are changing, Lilith. There’s much more going on here than either of you realize. In time, when you’re ready to accept the challenge, those intrigues will present themselves. For now, let’s say, I knew you were needed here. I knew it was time you met your mate as an adult and it was time for him to claim you.”

  “Why didn't my bite change her?” Lilith's gaze snapped to his and he shrugged. “It's not a weakness. I think our enemies already know the answer. We should, too.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, you're right.”

  The Historian shrugged. “She will not change.” She looked at Lilith. “You cannot change, not until all of you has been transformed.” Her gaze traveled back to James. “And even then she won't be quite like anything you've ever seen before.”

  He snorted. “Talking to you is like talking to the fucking Riddler.”

  Lilith smacked his arm. “Be nice.”

  But the Historian chuckled. “Sit. I can see you are in dire need of story, Guardian. Why don't I tell you a little about the Creation? You have a fondness for that one, right?”

 

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