by Rye Brewer
“What are you doing here?” I asked before Gage could have the chance to ask him yo give us privacy.
“Sometimes, I like to take in the sights.” Micah’s blithe shrug was so entirely him, I had to grin.
He had such grace, but was so masculine at the same time. I had never known anybody like him.
“I’m sure you do. It’s not as though you could’ve done it over the last hundred years,” Gage muttered.
It was so obvious that Micah’s presence disgusted and threatened him—enough so that it made him look a little ridiculous. Or that might have been my frustration with Gage coloring the way I saw him. Not that I cared at that moment. He was tap dancing on my last nerve. Or stomping.
Micah, on the other hand, understood me. I could relax because I knew he didn’t judge me the way Gage did. The stupid hypocrite. He made me who I was but kept telling me I had to be the girl I used to be, back when we met.
“A man cannot only hunt, you know,” he said, smiling at Gage.
I thought they were friends. They had seemed like friends, when we first met. There was a lot of affection between them. That affection had cooled to the point where it had turned to ice.
I couldn’t pretend to wonder why. It bothered Gage to his core when I spent time with Micah. He hated how comfortable I was on the hunt. He detested when Micah touched me—I had seen his angry glare enough times to know for certain, no matter how hard he’d tried to hide it.
If I hadn’t been so furious with him, I would’ve brushed Micah off in favor of our night together. I would’ve put an arm around him or leaned my head on his chest as a silent reminder of whom I loved. I should’ve done that even in my fury, because it was the right thing to do.
The problem was, I didn’t care about the right thing at that moment. Gage had ruined that with his pushy bullshit.
“That’s a shame, since I was going to ask if you’d care to go on a hunt with me,” I smiled, stepping away from Gage and moving closer to Micah.
Gage’s heartbreak and rage seemed to flow from him in waves, almost knocking me over.
“I thought we were going to walk together after this,” Gage reminded me through clenched teeth.
“We can walk anytime, can’t we?” I asked without looking his way.
“Cari…” He reached for me.
I didn’t pull away and embarrass him even more, but I didn’t react to his touch, either. I acted as though I didn’t feel the pressure of his hand on my arm.
Instead, I glared at him. “Isn’t this who you wanted me to be? Isn’t this who you turned me into? Or did you do it simply so you could spend the rest of eternity telling me who to be and how to live?”
His face fell, and guilt just about choked me. It was wrong, so wrong, but my anger was stronger than my guilt.
Micah groaned. “I’m sorry. I got in the way here. It’s so wrong. I’ll leave the two of you alone.”
“No, no, no need for that,” I assured him.
“But I’ve obviously caused friction.” He placed a hand on his chest, his sensuous mouth curved in a frown. “I apologize.”
“Just go, if you’re going to go,” Gage spat, turning away. He gripped the railing hard enough to turn his knuckles bone white.
“Come on.” I motioned for Micah to follow me, which he did without another word.
It felt good to strike a blow, because Gage had hurt me. So badly. He would never understand how badly.
Micah waited until we reached the street before speaking again, stepping aside so I could exit the elevator car before he did. “What did I interrupt up there? It was clear the two of you were at odds.”
“And yet, you broke in,” I smiled, glancing his way.
“Guilty.” He shrugged, hands spread. “It was clear to me that you were I pain, and I wanted to do something to stop it. If that makes me a monster, so be it. I will gladly accept that.”
He had a way of getting to me. I couldn’t help smiling at his protective instincts. “He wasn’t hurting me—I mean, maybe my feelings were hurt, but that’s something he and I have to get through. Somehow.” I rubbed my bare arms with my palms when I realized something that sent a cold shiver through me. “And I hurt his feelings. Which is a crappy thing to do, since I know how it feels.”
“I’m sure this is natural. All couples go through things like this. Granted, the two of you aren’t the typical couple.”
“What an understatement.”
We walked across the Pont d’Iena and turned down the Avenue de New York. How ironic.
I couldn’t help but look back at the tower, again and again, regretting the way things had gone. Time and distance always seemed to do that.
We walked in companionable silence. He seemed to understand the heaviness of my heart and gave me the chance to get my thoughts in order.
“Where’s the rest of the clan?” I asked after we’d walked a few blocks.
“They’re off hunting and doing whatever it is they do.”
“I see.”
Micah rarely hunted alone. This told me he’d been looking for us. For me. I couldn’t help feeling a little flattered, since it wasn’t as though I hated him. Far from it. I couldn’t deny the attraction to him, in fact. Anybody with a pulse would’ve been attracted to someone like him. Between his dark, smoldering looks and his magnetism, he was a walking dream.
I missed dreaming.
“Have you ever had a consort after you came to Paris?” I asked in an effort to forget my troubles.
“Oh, no. I could never bring myself to commit to one woman.”
I laughed. “You’re such a jerk sometimes.”
“I know. It’s part of my charm.” His smile nearly melted me. I blushed and looked away.
“So there hasn’t been anyone special in all this time?”
“There have been many special people,” he assured me, keeping his voice light.
“But not one, very special person. You know what I’m talking about, Micah. You don’t have to pretend to be Mr. Cavalier with me. I know you have a heart in there, somewhere under all those muscles and all that hair.”
“That hurts a little.”
“I know it doesn’t.”
“At any rate, no. There hasn’t been a special woman in my life since…” His soft sigh was barely audible, but I picked up on it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pick at something which still causes you pain.”
“I can’t blame you for being curious, but I don’t think there will ever be a time when the memory of Georgina doesn’t cause some degree of pain.”
“She was that special to you.”
“Of course. Time doesn’t erase that sort of love, or even blunt it. If anything, the love I have for her is stronger than it ever was before. Perhaps because I’ve spent so much of my existence without her.”
“What happened to her? I mean, I know you turned her. But why? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but it might help to talk about her.”
“I would like very much to talk about her. It’s been a long time since there’s been anyone who wants to hear about her. It’s as though she never existed, and that’s the cruelest part of it all.”
“I’m so sorry. And I’m all ears.”
He sighed again.
I looked up at him, his profile beautifully highlighted by the street lights. It may as well have been only the two of us in the entire city. None of the humans even registered on my consciousness—which was rare, since I was so often hungry for them.
“Georgina,” he breathed—then, he smiled.
Maybe the first genuine smile I had ever seen from him. He looked like an enamored little boy, not the always-in-control creature of the night I had known since arriving in Paris. I liked this version of him much more.
“She was the daughter of one of my father’s employees. We were farmers, as Gage’s family once was. Mr. Deveaux was the business manager. He was a fairly wealthy man, and we were a wealthy family, so it seemed natur
al that we would one day be married in order to unite our families. Georgina and I were lucky in that we were in love—some young men of my day and age were forced into arranged marriages with utterly tragic excuses for women.”
“That’s not sexist or mean at all,” I muttered.
“It’s still the truth, however. But Georgina was an angel. Not unlike you in many ways.”
I blushed. “Stop it.”
“I mean it. She had the same golden hair like yours, the same snappy intellect. It was unfortunate, if anything, for her to be born into an era in which a woman’s intellect was disregarded. Sometimes I still see her blue eyes in front of me, as though she still possessed the power to look into my soul. Many were the times when I was certain she was capable of just that.”
“Did she know who you were? I mean, what you were?”
“She did. I could never keep a secret from her. She never understood why we couldn’t meet in daylight. Why we always had to meet at night. She would ask me to take her on a picnic or a carriage ride, and I’d remind her how busy I was during the day—I would beg off by using work as an excuse. My father kept me on a short leash, that sort of thing. It only lasted but so long. And it was more than that. I loved her too much to allow her to be mine under false pretenses. Eventually, she would find out what I was, and I might lose her love. I couldn’t do that to her, or to me.”
“How did she react?”
“With curiosity, strangely enough. Or perhaps not so strange. She was always curious about life and the world. She would’ve made a wonderful scientist or explorer. When I told her I was a vampire, she was fascinated. She peppered me with questions every night for a full week. At the end of it, she assured me I had her love. Even though I wasn’t allowed to turn her—though I may have been able to appeal to the League once we were wed, and there could’ve been a chance for them to rule in our favor—she was eager to see life through my eyes one day. Her exact words.” His smile was sweet and full of love.
So much love, it took my breath away.
“And… what happened to her?”
He was quiet for a long time before speaking again, and his voice was tight when he did. “She grew ill. Influenza. I watched her slip away, and it was simply too much. I couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. I couldn’t imagine life without her—eternity, no less. An eternity in which I would suffer through, missing her the way I would’ve missed oxygen.”
I reached out and took his arm, winding mine around it. He patted my hand, holding his chin high. Pretending to be brave for the sake of his image.
“I turned her when she was perhaps moments from death. Up until that minute, I’d held out hope. The influenza was going around at that time, and rumor had it the infected ones often looked worst just before they overcame the illness. I wanted to believe that. I wanted to so badly. It seems stupid now, looking back. But that’s what love does to people, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.”
His jaw tightened, muscles jumping in it. “Needless to say, the League heard of her existence and put an end to it. I can’t speak any more on the subject. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry about that. If I were you, I wouldn’t have been able to speak of it at all. You’re very brave.”
“Brave,” he scoffed. “If I’d been truly brave, I would’ve let her go. Or at least found a way to spirit her far from the League before they learned of my actions. I would’ve protected her better. But I didn’t. I thought they would understand—I was hardly a child at the time, but I was still hopelessly naïve. And because of my naïveté, she died far more horribly than she would have if I’d allowed her to die from her illness.”
“You can’t torture yourself over it.”
His laugh was bitter, angry. Pained. “Can’t I? I’ve done a fairly good job of it ever since. How can a man forgive himself for something like that? I wasn’t even there when they killed her. How could I be? I had to run. She died alone. She may even have been wondering why I’d deserted her. There is no greater pain than that, I assure you.” He turned his face away, toward the street.
Tears filled my eyes and threatened to choke me. Only it wasn’t entirely over his story that I felt so emotional.
That was how Gage must have felt when I was dying. Like he couldn’t live without me. And unlike Micah, he had gotten me away before anyone could find me. He had taken a great chance and was living in a literal underground tomb for my sake. His sake, too, of course—but he could’ve easily acted out of self-interest and allowed me to die just to save his own life. He hadn’t done that. He’d known well what would happen to him if caught. He had seen his friend go through it. But he’d chosen me.
Micah pulled up short when I stopped walking. “Oh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you about this. It was too much.”
I shook my head. “That’s not it. I hate to do this right now, especially after everything you’ve just shared, but I need to find Gage. I have to try to make things right. Thank you for showing me how wrong I was.”
I jumped a little to press my lips to his cheek before turning and hurrying away. If I got lucky, I’d find Gage at the tower, but I’d go to the Catacombs if he’d left. I could only hope to make things right again.
29
Micah
I watched her run away, my cheek still tingling with the sensation of her lips against it.
Leaving me alone as she ran through the night in search of her great love. That pathetic fool who thought he could keep her all to himself.
What the hell did I have to do to get to her?
I had her, damn it! I had her. I was so close. Another five minutes, maybe ten, and she would’ve been in my arms. Just one kiss, and I would make her forget she’d ever met Gage. I hadn’t foreseen the possibility that she’d recognize the parallels between her story and Georgina’s. I’d only wanted to capitalize on her sympathy, and use it to use it to complete my seduction.
Perhaps if I’d told her about the way her boyfriend had allowed Georgina’s murder, she wouldn’t have run off to find him like a heroine in an old movie.
Gage was weak and cowardly, not to mention soft from centuries of living in luxury. Not nearly man enough for her. She deserved fire and passion, which I would gladly give her for the rest of my life. If only she weren’t so blind.
She was long gone, and I hadn’t moved from the spot in which she’d left me. Unspeakable frustration and unspent desire fought for domination in my psyche as I resumed with my walk. I was no longer strolling, as I’d been with her. This time, I was looking for a meal.
It was only a matter of time before their relationship imploded. Anyone with eyes could see it. She resented him for telling her what to do. She resented him for turning her in the first place—still unable to understand her dual nature, unable to come to terms with what she was capable of. Her humanity tugged at her conscience, even as her thirst for blood was an unending presence in the back of her mind.
I would never make her choose between her two natures. I would never make her feel guilty for being who she was. I would celebrate her, take pride in her hunting skills while enjoying her humor and intelligence. She didn’t have to be one or the other.
Several women walked in a group on my side of the road, coming in my direction. All of them stared as we passed each other, and I acknowledged them with a nod. A shame none of them were on their own. One at a time, I would’ve gladly fed on them. But four? Too many chances for something to go wrong.
Carissa.
The name was like music, just as the sound of her voice was more pleasing than my favorite aria. She was the only woman to stir anything resembling love in me since I lost Georgina. She may have believed I was only flattering her when I said she reminded me of my long-lost love, but it was the truth. They were both beautiful and strong and intelligent. Warm and humorous and able to make me laugh at myself, which was something not a single other person had been able to do throughout my
life.
I reached the Jardins de Trocadero with the lit fountains which overlooked the Eiffel Tower. Couples strolled along, holding hands and kissing and generally nauseating me. There were too many of them wandering around to feasibly lure one of them into the shadows. Somebody would see.
A head full of golden waves caught my attention, and for a moment I thought she might have come back to me.
The way my heart clenched was surprising, and alarming. It wasn’t her, naturally. But in that one moment, I’d hoped. And that was a dangerous thing.
She—the lookalike—was alone.
My instincts pinged as they did when I knew I had found my latest meal. I followed at a safe distance until I was sure she wasn’t meeting anyone—she looked a bit depressed, shoulders slumped and arms wrapped around her waist. Perfect. She wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings.
I fell into step beside her once I was certain we weren’t being observed.
“Why would a beautiful woman such as you look so sad?” I murmured.
She looked up at me with big, wide, trusting eyes.
It was almost too easy. I smelled the desire coming from her right away, and noted the dilation of her pupils, signaling her arousal at my presence.
It was only a matter of minutes after that. I crouched behind a wide tree with her crushed between the trunk and my unforgiving body, giving the impression to anyone who might see us that we were nothing more than lovers looking for a thrill.
She’d long since gone limp, her blood no longer pumping. I made sure I was alone before giving her the space to fall to the ground, folding in on herself.
It wasn’t safe. I shouldn’t have done it out in the open, much less to a girl somebody might miss.
She wasn’t one of the nameless, faceless, lonely souls I normally preyed upon. But I couldn’t help it. She reminded me so much of Cari, even in death. If I couldn’t have her, I would take the next best thing.
I coursed away from there, cutting through the darkness along the bank of the Seine until I was a sufficient distance from the scene of my crime.