by Kallysten
“And then,” he continued after a few seconds, “I got used to it all. Now I can’t picture how I ever lived without it. Without catching the scent of the jasmine before it even blooms, or seeing stars so clearly, it feels I could almost pick them out if I only reached toward the sky.”
The quiet awe in his words forced a response out of Lena.
“So…you like being a vampire, then?”
Liam blinked and frowned, as though the question surprised him.
“It’s what I am. I never wanted to be one, I never imagined it would happen to me, but it did. And now…sometimes it feels as though I was never anything else.”
He hadn’t actually answered, but she took his words as affirmative. The tone of his voice alone was clear enough. She let seconds pass in silence as she watched him, finding him the same as she remembered, though paler; his eyes seemed darker, somehow, stronger.
“I wish you had come to me,” she said at last, trying not to allow herself to accuse or complain. “I worried all these months, wondered if you were still alive and held against your will. Or if you had died. I imagined so many terrible things that could have happened to you. I even thought a vampire might have gotten you, but I was sure you would have come back to me if that had been the case.”
His hand covered hers where it had curled into a fist on her thigh. It felt cool, not cold as she would have expected, and weighted nothing—and at the same time, it was heavier than the entire world.
“I couldn’t. My Sire…” He hesitated at that, and Lena thought for a second he even grimaced. “Alexei said I’d draw attention to our clan if I went to anyone I used to know. He had forbidden me to see you.”
The strain in his words hinted that there was much more hidden behind them than he was saying. Lena knew very little about vampire customs, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know anything more about them, but she had to ask.
“But you’re here now. Won’t he be mad at you?”
“He’s dead.” His voice seemed flat, but again Lena could have sworn it was only a mask. “He died a few weeks ago, and so did the Master of my clan. Those of us who were left tried to stick together but…” He shrugged. “It didn’t work out and we all went our own way. I’m living on my own, now.”
Lena still had dozens of questions that she wanted to ask. Hundreds of them. But at the same time, she wondered, yet again, if she truly wanted to know. As long as she didn’t ask, she could tell herself that Liam had been happy all those months. That he had found a new family, a new life. That he didn’t kill to feed.
Once more, silence stretched between them, and Lena could feel his eyes on her even as she observed him and thought about what he had said, and not said. In the end, none of it changed anything, and she had to let him know that.
“I love you.” To say it aloud again, to say it to Liam after months of whispering it to a picture felt liberating. “I never stopped loving you. Even when other people were telling me you had bailed on me because the wedding was coming and you got cold feet. Even when I started accepting that I’d probably never see you again. I still loved you this whole time, and you being…being a vampire makes no difference. I’ll always love you, Liam.”
Months of endless waiting seemed to melt away with those words. It wouldn’t have taken much for her to believe Liam had never disappeared, never left such a void in her life and heart. He only needed to say the words too.
But all he did was pick up her hand and cradle it between both of his on the table. He wasn’t even looking at her. The numbness was overwhelming, but she had to know, and she fought to push the words out.
“You—you don’t feel the same anymore?”
Slowly, he brought his eyes back to her, and she could have sworn there were flames dancing in them.
“Some vampires change when they are sired,” he said, his words barely loud enough for Lena to hear them. “No one can know until after if they’ll be the same as when they were humans or completely different.”
As before, he wasn’t really answering her question, but she thought she could see where he was going with that line of thought.
“You changed a lot?” she asked, fearing his answer yet needing to know.
“I thought I had. I…well, you don’t want to know, really. There are things that vampires do that would have revolted me a year ago. I know I would have died rather than kill anyone, but, I’ve done as much, and I don’t regret it. It’s just what I am, now. I can’t pretend otherwise even if that means losing you.”
He dropped his eyes to their entwined fingers on the table, and Lena realized she was trying to pull her hand free. She managed to stop. She had just told him she loved him regardless of who or what he was now. She couldn’t go back on her words because he was being honest in return, even if fear was beginning to seize her.
“That’s another reason why I didn’t come to see you,” he continued when she had relaxed a little. “I could have gone against my Sire’s orders. He’d have punished me, but it’d have been worth it to see you. I knew you’d be hurt, though, and I didn’t want to see that look of pain on your face.”
His smile, somewhere between resigned and bittersweet, broke Lena’s heart, and made her want to hold on to him and never let go again.
“I thought I had changed,” he repeated, meeting her eyes again. “My Sire said vampires can’t love. But I still love you. I knew I did from the first night I rose, and he tried everything to convince me it wasn’t possible. I thought I believed him, but when I saw you earlier, dancing with that guy, I knew nothing had changed. I knew I still love you as much as I did when I was human. And that tells me it was the real thing between us, if everything in me changed except for that.”
Lena moved first. Her free hand rose toward Liam’s face and cupped his cheek, drawing him toward her as she leaned forward. His lips were cool, but as soft as they had been in her dreams and memories, and everything disappeared from her world until only she and Liam remained.
His hands dropped to her waist, and he pulled her to sit on his lap, his gesture as tender and careful as he had ever been, but containing a restrained strength that changed it—and him—at the same time. Lena noticed, she couldn’t not have noticed, and realized that the man holding her in his arms was different from the one she had once been weeks away from marrying. But she didn’t care, or didn’t want to care. All that mattered for now was being with him.
Intent on rediscovering him, she kept her lips light on his, brushing against them, drawing back then forward again, each touch bringing back a memory. He seemed content to let her do as she pleased for a little while; but after a moment, his hands tightened briefly at her waist, and in the same instant, he deepened the kiss, his tongue all but requesting passage past her lips. She complied with a quiet sound at the back of her throat that he soothed by gently stroking her back along the edges of the tulle wings.
At first, all she felt was pure tactile memories. She wasn’t in a club anymore. She was on the top row of the empty bleachers, the game long over and the warmth of Liam’s mouth and hands on hers even greater than that of the sun, high above them. She was in the park two blocks from campus, the leftovers from a picnic and study session forgotten for a moment to enjoy a much-needed mental break and cuddle. She was in that small apartment they had shared for almost two years, a new ring on her finger, a stunned ‘yes’ still echoing in the room even as she and Liam shared their first kiss as an engaged couple. She experienced their three and a half years of love, in a single kiss.
But beyond the familiar, beyond the tenderness of Liam’s touch and the comfort of his tongue tracing well-known patterns against hers, she could once more discern something new. It was in the slightly coppery taste of his mouth, and in the way his flesh warmed at her contact. It was, also, in the low growl—or was it a purr?—that she almost felt more than she heard. It was in the tightly possessive hold of his hands on her waist. No longer stroking but rather clutching, as though he were
afraid she would leave.
In all truth, she considered it. She had always prided herself on being reasonable, and this certainly was anything but. As much as she loved Liam, and even if he had professed his continued love for her, she realized that she was in danger. But when it came down to it, when they separated, when Liam helped her up and slid out of the booth, she held on to his hand and accompanied him out. Lena didn’t care about anything other than the simple fact that Liam had returned to her.
* * * *
During the short walk to his apartment, Liam revealed how he and the other vampires of his clan who had survived their Master’s slaying had divided amongst themselves the money they had found in their lair.
“It was more than we expected. Most of it in cash and some jewelry. I’ve used my share to pay for a few months rent.”
Lena did not respond, and tried not to let herself wonder where that money and jewelry had come from. She could easily imagine, of course, but as long as she didn’t let herself acknowledge the victims that had certainly been robbed—killed—things would be easier to accept.
The apartment was on the third floor of a drab but clean building.
“The electric box is faulty,” Liam said, apologetic, as he walked from room to room and lit a few candles. “Since I don’t need much light, candles have been enough so far.”
Lena could see only three rooms, a living room solely furnished with a battered sofa and piles of books next to it, a bedroom, and a small bathroom. The books, at least, were a familiar touch. Liam would never go anywhere without one. She followed him into the bedroom. The bed was smaller than the one they had once shared, but the sheets and cover were tucked in as neatly as they had ever been in their bedroom. More books were spread out on the bedside table, next to the tall pillar candle, along with an open notebook. As she approached, aware of his eyes following her around the room, she could see his handwriting covering half a page and had the urge to read it. Part of Liam was still the man she knew, but there were new facets to him that she wished she could have known—and others she feared discovering.
“It’s small, but I feel safe here,” Liam added after a moment to fill the silence. “We were running for a while after the Master was killed, so it’s good not to have Enforcers hunting me anymore. And I’ve been trying not to give them a reason to hunt me.”
She acknowledged what he wasn’t quite saying with a nod. If he didn’t kill, Special Enforcers would leave him alone. That meant finding willing victims, however, and that explained why he had been prowling the club tonight. Lena shuddered as though an icy finger had slid down her spine.
“Do you bring them here?” she asked, and at his blank look added, “The people you feed from. Do you bring them here?”
She tried not to wonder what he thought as his eyes narrowed; tried not to wonder either whether he brought other people here, other women, for a different purpose than to feed from them.
“I don’t,” he answered at last, shaking his head. “It would be too risky. A lair is supposed to be the ultimate safe haven. I don’t bring anyone here.”
“Except me,” she pointed out with a small smile.
“Except you,” he agreed. “But you’re different. You’re not prey.”
To hear him say that word and remind her again of what he was now made Lena uneasy, and she took a few steps away from him and toward the window on the other side of the bed. Metallic blinds covered it; they were cold beneath her fingers when she pulled two apart to look outside. A bland view of the city greeted her, anonymous buildings and flashing signs. She started at the unexpected feel of his hands settling on her shoulders.
“Lena, please, don’t be afraid of me.”
“I’m not—” she began, but couldn’t finish as she realized that yes, a veil of fear had draped over her.
“I want to taste you.” His murmured words caressed the shell of her ear before sliding down her neck. “But I won’t, not unless you give me permission.”
His mouth reached the crook of her neck and settled there, cool and soft. Lena tensed, expecting a bite, then understood what he had just said. He wouldn’t, not without her consent. She almost wished she could have said the word and offered herself to him this way, but she remained silent.
He kept his lips against her pulse point just a little longer, as though waiting for her to change her mind, but when she didn’t, he trailed them down the nape of her neck, pushing her hair away as he did. At the same time, his fingers slid beneath the straps of her wings and started pulling them down. He seemed to hesitate for a second, and Lena urged him forward by arching her shoulders back to help.
“An angel for a demon,” Liam murmured as he removed her wings. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
Turning to face him, Lena met his eyes and hoped that no fear remained in her own. “Not ironic. Fitting.”
Her fingers shook when they twisted and pulled at the buttons of his shirt, but no more than his as they did the same thing for her. She finished first, and slid her hands beneath the fabric to push it off his shoulders. A pale mark caught her eye and she frowned.
“What happened…” she started, but trailed off as she gently turned his body toward the light of the candle.
She counted five scar lines over his chest, and three on his arms. When she traced each of them with a finger, Liam glanced down, frowning, and then shrugged.
“These are nothing. They’ll disappear in a few weeks.”
“But who did this? Why—”
He cut off her question by pressing his mouth to hers, hard and fast. She pulled back and tried to hold him off long enough to get an answer, but he didn’t give her time to ask again.
“I was in a fight, I got hurt,” he said, reaching again for her shirt to finish unbuttoning it. “Nothing bad and nothing for you to be concerned about. Really, Lena, love.” With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up toward his. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”
Her white shirt joined his on the floor, soon followed by the rest of their clothes. Lena couldn’t help but look for more scars, more proof that Liam wasn’t telling her everything. She found a few more, older ones it seemed, and as before, she couldn’t help but reach out to touch them. Liam evaded her questing hand by taking hold of her wrist and bringing it to his lips to lay a kiss in the center of her palm, then a second one on the finger that still bore his ring.
“Stop worrying so much,” he whispered, an admonition that made her smile for being so familiar.
He drew back the sheets, then pulled her to lie down on the bed with him. With his body against hers, legs entangled, his hard cock trapped between them, her breasts pressed against his chest, it became suddenly more difficult to focus on anything but the burning kiss he initiated.
As she relaxed against him, he maneuvered her onto her back and abandoned her lips. She would have protested, but the feel of his mouth gently traveling over her collarbone then down the curve of her breast stole all thoughts from her mind. His lips fastened over her nipple and she moaned, then again when his fingers ghosted around her other breast.
She closed her eyes and her hands played over his back, becoming reacquainted with the feel of his skin. After months of lonely nights, it was almost too much, and still she wanted more of his touch, more of him. Taking his hand in hers, she guided it down to the apex of her legs. He complied easily with her request, and traced her folds with a delicate finger, spreading her wetness around before easily sliding in. She arched up at the feeling and his lips tightened over her nipple, eliciting a gasp from her.
For a few moments—Seconds? Centuries?—she lay against him and reveled in his caresses, each of them healing the aching void his absence had left in her soul. But she had never been happy with a passive role, and eventually the desire to show him with her body what she had declared in words already, showing him how much she loved him still, became an irrepressible need. Capturing his hand, she lifted it off her body and gently pushed it back until L
iam had rolled onto his back. She followed immediately, lying alongside him.
“My turn,” she murmured, her voice roughened by want and need.
As she leaned on her forearm, she looked for those white lines she had touched earlier, and this time caressed them with her lips, kissing each of them and making the silent wish that Liam would not get hurt again. When she reached the lowest mark, an inch or so to the left of his navel, she felt him take a deep breath. She could easily guess what had prompted it, and rested her cheek on his stomach to lightly blow air over the head of his twitching cock. He shuddered beneath her, his hand entangling into her hair, and she smiled.
“Anything you want?” she breathed, and trailed a finger over the length of his cock.
The request for her mouth that she expected did not come, and instead his answer was simpler, though intense.
“You. Always.”
Sitting up, she looked at his face. He had never seemed so serious and Lena knew, in a moment of perfect clarity, that he had missed her during the past seven months, just as much as she had missed him. Something inside her loosened, and relief replaced a fear she hadn’t known existed until that moment. Need, desire and love overwhelmed all that she was or felt, and almost as if in a daze, she kneeled over Liam’s hips and guided his cock inside her. They shared a sigh as she remained still for a few seconds, savoring their union.
When she started raising herself up, he began moving along with her, falling into the well-known steps of their dance as though they had never been separated. His hands skimmed over her skin, caressing her thighs and sliding up to cup her breast then down again, urging her on faster.
She tried to resist, at first. She wanted this to last, to somehow make up for too many worried and lonely nights. But the fire in Liam’s eyes as he said her name, the heat in his kiss when he drew her down to him for an instant were too hard to fight. Raking her fingernails over his chest, she changed her angle slightly so his cock would press against that sensitive spot inside her with every thrust of her hips. She could feel the wave rising in her and increased her tempo at the same time as she contracted her muscles around Liam, pulling a grunt from his lips.