Cliff's Descent

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Cliff's Descent Page 21

by Dianne Duvall


  Cliff laughed, his shoulders loosening with relief. “I think you’re right. My mind hasn’t been this quiet in a long time.” Still smiling, he took in the beautiful scenery. Verdant meadows and forests adorned lovely hills. He drew in a deep breath, reveling in the sweet scents carried to him on the wind. “Where are we?”

  “My home in Scotland.”

  Cliff motioned to the trees around them. “All this land is yours?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. You’re a lucky man.” Happiness suffused him. Standing here with the sunlight bathing his skin and his mind blessedly quiet, he felt more normal and at peace than he had since his early months with Emma.

  Squinting his eyes, he sent Aidan a sly glance. “Are you sure you aren’t just trying to keep me alive longer so I can help you find a wife?”

  Aidan laughed. “You’ve caught me. That’s exactly why.”

  “Any luck yet?” A hawk floated above them on the breeze, capturing Cliff’s attention. How wonderful was it to be able to observe the majestic bird without voices clamoring for him to butcher it, slowly and painfully?

  Aidan shrugged. “I met Veronica Becker.”

  “You did?” That surprised him. “I thought you crossed her off the list because she’s still mourning her husband.” Based on the conversations he’d overheard, Cliff had concluded that Veronica and her husband had loved each other as deeply as he and Emma did. Veronica had taken her husband’s death hard.

  “I did. But she got a flat tire.”

  Cliff gave him a pointed stare. Aidan hadn’t wanted to approach the women on network premises, where they would instantly know who and what he was. He preferred to arrange casual, accidental meetings which—on more than one occasion—had entailed flattening one of their tires on their drive home from work, then happening by to help them.

  “It wasn’t me,” Aidan protested.

  “Sure it wasn’t,” Cliff replied drolly.

  Aidan laughed. “It truly wasn’t, but she thought it was.”

  That sparked a grin. “Figured it out, did she?” Not surprising. Veronica was brilliant.

  “Yes, and kindly suggested I find another MO.”

  Cliff laughed. “I told you so. North Carolina is like a small town. Word gets around.”

  “Well, when I didn’t show up to change her flat tire, she got out to do it herself and was attacked by vampires.”

  His amusement vanished, replaced by concern. “Is she okay?”

  Aidan nodded. “She’s fine. I escorted her and her son home, then went to see Dana Pembroke.”

  “The psychic?”

  “Yes.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “She had a vision of the two of us making love.”

  Cliff’s eyebrows flew up as he smiled. “That’s awesome!”

  “Aye. And she agreed to go out to dinner with me tonight.”

  Hot damn! “Do you think Dana’s the one?” he asked, happy for his friend.

  Aidan shrugged. “I don’t know. But I like her.”

  “And she’s psychic and saw you two naked together. Holy hell, that’s a good sign.”

  Aidan grinned. “I hope so.”

  The hawk’s shadow swept across them as it took off after whatever prey had caught its attention.

  Cliff soaked in the beauty that surrounded them. “It’s weird, the things you take for granted. The things you wouldn’t expect to miss much if they were taken away.” He wished Emma could be here to experience this with him. “I’ve always been a night owl.” Despite his strict adherence to the early-to-bed, early-to-rise schedule school and work demanded before his transformation, he had always felt more rested during the summer months when he could stay up and sleep later. “So when I realized I couldn’t go out in daylight anymore, I didn’t think I’d miss it.” He drank in the bright light, enjoying the tangible warmth of it on his skin. “But I do. I really do.”

  “Not anymore,” Aidan vowed.

  He really did intend to take Cliff out into the sunlight, every day if necessary, to help him fight the madness. And Cliff, curse his selfish hide, would let him, wanting to put off saying goodbye to Emma for as long as he could.

  “Listen,” he began, thinking of Emma and his concern for her. “There’s something I need you to do.”

  “Name it,” Aidan replied without hesitation.

  Cliff was so damned fortunate to have friends like him. He really wished he didn’t need to do this. He just couldn’t accept what might happen if he didn’t. “I wouldn’t ask,” he said. Aidan had done so much for him already. “I had hoped I wouldn’t have to. But Bastien can’t teleport and—”

  “What would you have me do?”

  Cliff drew a folded piece of paper from his jeans pocket and held it out. “I need you to go to this address.”

  Aidan took the paper with his free hand. Flipping it open, he read the numbers and words scrawled across it.

  Emma’s address. Cliff needed Aidan to provide her with tools she could use to safeguard herself should the madness ever reach the point where Cliff failed to recognize her when he flew into a rage.

  As long as he still saw her, he steadfastly believed he wouldn’t hurt her. But if he didn’t… Or if he was wrong…

  Aidan nodded. “Consider it done.”

  Cliff studied him. “You know what I’m asking?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d ask Richart, but I don’t really know him well. And Seth…”

  “You’d rather Seth not know, if he doesn’t already.”

  “Yes.” Emma was Cliff’s lifeline. His reason to keep fighting. If he lost her, he would lose himself. He would lose everything.

  “I understand.” Aidan tucked the paper into his back pocket. “Shall I go tonight?”

  “No. It doesn’t have to be tonight. I don’t want you to cut your date short. Just… soon.”

  Though Aidan smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “You don’t have to bring me out in the sun again,” Cliff told him. Preventing him from harming the woman he loved meant far more.

  “I didn’t have to bring you out into the sun today,” Aidan responded. “I did it because I wanted to. And I’ll do it again tomorrow for the same reason. And every day after that as long as you continue to fight.”

  Cliff wished he had a way to repay him. Sharing what he knew about the names on Aidan’s list of female gifted ones seemed woefully inadequate. “You’re a good man, Aidan.”

  “So are you, Cliff,” his friend said, his voice earnest. “Nothing that happens in the future will ever negate that.”

  Sorrow filled him. “You don’t know how much I want that to be true.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Emma jerked awake. Disoriented, she glanced around and realized she’d fallen asleep while trying to lose herself in an e-book.

  Boots thumped on her front steps, as loud as a bass drumbeat in the night’s quiet.

  She glanced at the clock. It was too early for Cliff to arrive. The sun had barely set, so he probably hadn’t even started hunting with Bastien yet.

  Hard knocks rocked her door.

  Unease shot through her. Cliff didn’t knock. He rang the doorbell they’d installed together.

  Careful not to make a sound, she padded over to the door in bare feet and peeked through the peephole.

  A black shirt and coat blocked her view until the man inside them bent his knees to reduce his height enough for her to see his face.

  Oh shit. Her heart began to slam against her ribs.

  Aidan O’Byrne, a nearly three-thousand-year-old Immortal Guardian who had pretty much moved into an apartment down on sublevel 5.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  A full minute passed while she wondered what to do.

  A sigh wafted to her ears. “I can hear your heartbeat through the door, so pretending you aren’t home isn’t goin
g to work, Emma.”

  She swore. “What do you want?”

  “I need to speak with you. Open the door please.”

  Hell no. Not until she figured out why he was here. But the late nights with Cliff had left her somewhat sleep-deprived, so her mind was sluggish.

  Another masculine sigh. “You know who and what I am, so you know no locks can keep me out. I’m asking you as a courtesy.”

  Well, crap. Emma turned the locks on the door and opened it only enough for her to stand in the gap and speak to him. No way was she inviting him inside.

  She tilted her head back. She’d passed Aidan in the hallway a time or two at network headquarters. He was handsome. And tall. Taller than Cliff, who was six feet, making her feel at even more of a disadvantage.

  But he didn’t charge in or make any threatening moves. “You know who I am,” he stated again.

  She gave him an abrupt nod. “You’re Aidan. I’ve seen you around at the network.”

  “And Cliff has mentioned me.”

  She debated the wisdom of answering that one and wondered if he was one of the telepathic immortals, capable of reading others’ thoughts. “Yes.”

  “As I said, we need to talk.”

  Emma hesitated another moment. Cliff had never spoken poorly of Aidan. Quite the opposite. So she ultimately decided to ease back and open the door wide enough for him to enter.

  Aidan stepped inside and glanced around while she closed the door.

  “So?” She folded her arms just under her breasts and wished she wore a T-shirt instead of a tank top.

  “So,” he parroted and actually looked as awkward as she felt. “You’ve been seeing Cliff.”

  Emma kept her expression neutral. Should she deny it? Feign ignorance? Brazen it out?

  Then reason penetrated the fog of fatigue and pointed out that if Aidan knew her address, he probably knew a hell of a lot more.

  “How did you know?” she asked finally.

  “Cliff is my friend,” he told her. “I sleep at the network during the day and have spent a lot of time with him since transferring to North Carolina.” He considered her carefully. “You know that immortals and vampires have heightened senses.”

  She nodded.

  “Well, I couldn’t help but notice that—on the nights Bastien takes Cliff hunting with him and lets him roam alone for a few hours—Cliff always returns carrying a woman’s scent.”

  Emma lowered her gaze to her bare feet. Curse their heightened senses.

  “I catch the same scent each time I pass your office at the network. And even if I didn’t, I’m telepathic and see you in his thoughts.”

  As always, resentment that her relationship with Cliff was entirely dependent on the approval of others welled within her. Cliff still worried over Seth or Mr. Reordon discovering their relationship, convinced they would put a stop to it to protect her. So if Aidan was here to warn her away, he could go fuck himself. “If you’re here to tell me not to see him anymore, you can—”

  “That’s not why I’m here,” he said. “Because I’m telepathic, I also know that Cliff is always in better shape mentally after spending time with you. He’s calmer. More at peace.” He shrugged. “I’m his friend. I wouldn’t take that away from him.”

  All defensiveness fled. Emma lowered her arms. “He says I quiet the voices.”

  “You do.” Regret darkened his features. “But Cliff is struggling, Emma.”

  Her throat worked in a swallow. “He’s been struggling for a long time now.”

  Aidan shook his head. “Yesterday was different.”

  Fear and dread returned, making her stomach churn. “What happened? He didn’t come by last night. Did he have another break?” His rare absences always terrified her but usually only lasted a night.

  “No,” Aidan told her. “But the voices clamoring in his head were so loud that they woke me from a sound sleep. And when I went to him…” Every second he hesitated, her fear escalated. “He was contemplating ending it.”

  All strength left her legs. Her knees buckled.

  Aidan hastily grasped her upper arms to keep her from sinking to the floor.

  Emma gripped his forearms with desperate hands, fingers twisting the material of his sleeves. Moisture welled in her eyes. “Is he…? Did he ask Bastien to…?” End it for him? Was that why Aidan, not Bastien, had come to her? Because Bastien was too torn up over having ended his friend’s life?

  “No,” Aidan hastened to assure her. “Cliff is alive.”

  Tears spilled over her lashes as her chest rose and fell with harsh breaths taken to hold back sobs. “I thought you were going to tell me…” Shaking her head, she swallowed hard. “He’s okay then?”

  Aidan guided her over to the sofa. “Let’s sit down, shall we?”

  Nodding, she released him and sank down on the soft cushions. Her hands shook as she swiped at the tears cooling her cheeks.

  Aidan retrieved a wingback chair from the corner and plunked it down across from her so he could face her. Seating himself in it, he leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. “I tried something new yesterday that I hoped would help him. I teleported him to a sunny meadow on my estate in Scotland.”

  Shock stole her breath, bringing a halt to the sobs. “You hurt him?” she demanded furiously. “How could you? He’s been helping you—”

  Aidan held up a palm. “I didn’t hurt him. I’m a powerful healer and kept my hand on his shoulder the entire time, healing the damage the sun wrought so quickly that he didn’t feel it.”

  She frowned. “You can do that?”

  “Yes. I tried it first on Ethan, an immortal who is only a century old and can tolerate very little sun exposure, to confirm it would work.”

  She stared at him. “So Cliff was able to stand in sunlight without it hurting him?”

  Aidan smiled. “Yes. And we discovered that sunlight silences the voices as effectively as you do.”

  Hope welled. “So he’s better now?”

  “He’s better.”

  Relief left her light-headed. Smiling, she reached out and took one of his hands. “Thank you.” That had been incredibly thoughtful. And it was a relief to know they had someone else in their corner who could help them find new ways to help Cliff.

  “I was happy to do it,” he replied as if he’d done something far simpler, like let Cliff borrow his car.

  “Do you think, if it gets bad again,” she asked hesitantly, “that maybe you could do it again?” Wasn’t healing the wounds of others painful for immortals?

  Aidan patted her hand. “I’ve already told Cliff I’ll take him into the sunlight every day he continues to fight.” That was a hell of a thing to offer.

  She clutched his hand. “Really? You would do that for him?”

  “Of course. He’s my friend.”

  “But doesn’t it hurt?” she asked. “I thought immortals healed others by absorbing the damage into their own bodies.”

  Aidan shrugged. “I told Cliff it’s a mild discomfort at most.”

  She smiled wryly, seeing through the lie. “It hurt like hell, didn’t it?”

  He laughed. “Yes. The longer we stood in the sunlight, the worse the pain grew. But I can tolerate it for Cliff. He’s a good man, well worth saving.”

  “I wouldn’t love him if he weren’t,” she professed with a sad smile. “Did you know he saved my life?”

  Aidan shook his head, his face lighting with surprise. “No.”

  “I work the day shift now but used to work nights at the network. And I was there when mercenaries bombed the original network headquarters just before dawn. I worked on sublevel 1. Part of the ground floor collapsed before I could evacuate. Something hit me on the head and knocked me unconscious. And when I woke up, I was buried beneath the rubble and couldn’t move.” She shook her head. “I didn’t even have a chance to call for help before the concrete and whatever else was piled on top
of me began to shift and groan as someone lifted it away. The next thing I knew, Cliff was staring down at me, his eyes glowing bright amber while he told me not to be afraid, that he was there to help me.”

  “Did you know he was a vampire?” Aidan asked curiously.

  “Not with certainty.” He’d been covered in dust and debris that made him look different enough from the man in the photo Cynthia had shown her that Emma hadn’t been sure it was him until Melanie confirmed it after Cliff handed Emma over to her. “But I had heard that one of the vampires housed on sublevel 5 was a brother. And I figured he wouldn’t keep telling me not to be afraid if he were an immortal.” She remembered the mercenaries dropping down through jagged holes in the ceiling as Cliff spirited her away. “I wouldn’t have made it out of the building alive if Cliff hadn’t saved me.”

  “So that’s how you two met.”

  She grinned. “Yes, but he doesn’t remember it. I was pretty unrecognizable when he found me.” She opted not to mention the torture he’d endured shortly thereafter that had deprived him of the memory.

  Aidan drew a piece of paper from his front pocket and handed it to her along with a small box.

  “What’s this?” she asked as she took them.

  “Cliff asked me to speak with you.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “He’s worried he’s going to hurt you.”

  “He won’t,” she countered. “I’ve already told him he won’t hurt me. I’m sure of it. But he—”

  Aidan held up a hand. “You didn’t see him yesterday, Emma. You didn’t hear his thoughts. And you’ve never seen a vampire who has completely succumbed to the madness and lost all knowledge of right and wrong.”

  She shook her head. “Dr. Lipton told me that—even during psychotic breaks—the other vampires have never attacked her or Dr. Machen.”

  “Melanie knows about you?”

  “Yes. Bastien told her Cliff and I are lovers. And she came to see me, afraid I might not understand the consequences of getting pregnant by him or that I might not understand fully what the virus would do to him.”

  “Did she try to talk you out of seeing him?”

 

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